


In Honor

by ScarletRibbons



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, Aftercare, Alpha Paz Vizla, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armorer gets a name, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Hunting, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, M/M, Made Up Planets, Made up creatures, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Din Djarin, Pregnancy Kink, Randolorians get names, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Tags May Change, The Child does not have defined gender, The Child gets a name, Vaginal, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, adoptive father, animal consumption it's not graphic, made up Mandalorian culture, made up Mandalorian traditions, non-canon, other Mandos get names
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 88,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletRibbons/pseuds/ScarletRibbons
Summary: Din is a happy, six year old Omega male. He's loved by his Mother and Father, he has friends and a happy life. But Death comes in a violent wave of metal and raging blaster fire. It consumes all he loves and knows, it steals his future and his identity. It tries to steal him too. But it's beaten back by figures in armor and helmets, with fire at their command and a fighting spirit. What Death steals the Mandalorian's renew; his safety, his life, a family, an identity and a Father. It gives him a future, one he in which he thought he was secure in. Until he stumbles into parenthood, he wasn't ready for this. It's not in the plan, not yet. He was just planning to join his first Trials this year, maybe find a worthy mate. Now what?ScarletRibbons does not give permission for any work to be posted or "hosted" to any app or website, especially those that require a subscription, fee or make money off my work through fees or ad revenue. To do so is to be in direct violation of DMCA and copyright infringement.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Paz Vizla, The Mandalorian/Paz Vizla
Comments: 318
Kudos: 576





	1. Loss Is A Silent Scream

**Author's Note:**

> Because The Mandalorian is still so new this story will not be canon compliant, I’m also going to take liberties with Mandalorian culture and specifically the culture and practices of Din’s covert (The Tribe). There will be things that are canon as far as season 1 of The Mandalorian is concerned, but I will mostly be deviating from this. Also, this story is Alpha/Beta/Omega and I envision the Mandalorian’s as being far more progressive as a society than any others. Their warrior culture is based around an individual’s path of The Way and things like secondary gender and their assumed roles is considered something that pulls you from the path and are therefore not important. So, all genders are seen as equal and held to the same standard to one another, where their roles as warriors comes first in all things. This will all be better explained in the story as it progresses and how it pertains to culture and traditions.

Din knows nothing of death. He’s a little boy whose knowledge of the world extends no further than the safety and comforts of the home his family keeps and the radius around it. Din is not permitted to be further than his Mother and Father can hear him, to stay where he can be seen. He’s not allowed further than this unless escorted by his parents, and they only ever go to the market or the woods and fields to hunt and gather. His world is small and diligently guarded. But he’s safe and happy, even if he sometimes gets in to trouble for wandering. His Mother has an uncanny knowledge for when he’s about to attempt to sneak away, goaded by his peers or just because he feels he’s big now. He doesn’t know it’s because she’s a Mother and silence from one’s adventurous child means trouble. Silence means he’s not where he’s supposed to be or where she last saw him.

Din’s knowledge of death is limited to a basic understanding that when times at home are tough, and the money his Father brings home isn’t enough to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads or new clothes on an ever growing Din, that they have to go out and hunt and gather for what they need. He knows that they are only permitted to take what they need to survive to a better day. His Father teaches him that life is a cycle, that the animals and the vegetation are all in balance of each other. To disrupt one too harshly can disrupt the whole thing. Only take the biggest berries or leaves, it makes room for the smaller ones to have a chance to grow. To replenish itself, to keep living. Hunt only game that is alone, taking a female with a newborn means the baby dies too. Taking too many males means no babies. Taking too much of any one thing means nothing revives, that they may never come back. Life is about renewal, that’s what he teaches Din on these trips.

Teaching a rambunctious child full of questions is certainly trying for his parents. He is their first, every new day is something they too must learn to navigate. It had been a bit easier with Din’s grandmother around, the mother of Din’s father. She had been full of wisdom and happiness in those last years. She taught both parents about the normalcy of pregnancy, listened to her daughter-in-law’s fears and hopes. She consoled her son of his own fears and patiently affirmed he would be a good father. The day of Din’s birth she had been so happy, near inconsolable. She cried tears of joy and wept with longing. Din didn’t know death, not like his family. Sickness took much from them and it would take his grandmother too before he was two years old. He knew nothing of the sickness in his father’s heart, not a literal sickness. But the kind that comes with being heartbroken so many times. Din would never remember his grandmother; he knew only stories and that she wasn’t with them anymore.

He didn’t know how this pained his father, and what pained him made his mother quietly sad too. Din would never know the farm his father was born at and his father was glad for that at least. He didn’t want his curly haired boy to ever know what it was like to lose the people you loved in such an awful way. How does a man explain death and sickness to his child? That same boy is this very moment being tortured by his own Mother’s questions and exasperated face.

_“Din.”_

_That voice, the one with the questioning inflection. It says so much for a single syllable._

_“Yes?”_

_Din is wet from the bath he’s hastily taken, wearing his night clothes which are damp on his left leg from the ankle to his mid-calf. The boy knows he’s in trouble, his tone sullen but guilty, a little hope suggesting he thinks his mother won’t notice. A troubled sigh from across the room, where he can’t see her. No, nothing gets past her._

_“Din, you didn’t wash your hair.” She accuses, “Yes, I did!” Din shrieks back. “You said to wash it and that’s what I did.”_

_“I can see your hair is still greasy from here! You didn’t wash it properly at all.”_

_“I did so!” the boy whines, “Really? Come here then.”_

_“Why?” quiet and accusing, like his mother._

_“Because, if you washed it like you said you did then you’ll have no problem letting me touch it. Your hair will feel clean and not greasy to the touch.” Her voice is getting louder, not because she’s yelling but because she has left the kitchen and is walking towards Din._

_Din’s hands fly to his head, fists curling into his wet and grease weighted curls. “You can see it just fine from there! I washed it!” He sees his wife in front of Din now, she’s managed to reach above and around the boys’ head and his hands to grasp the hair at the back of his head. A put-upon sigh is her first response. “Oh, honestly Din. Your hair is still greasy,” the boy squawks, sounding personally offended. “You only wet it didn’t you? Come on, before your father is home. I’m just going to have to wash you myself.”_

_“No!” Din wails and it’s more the sound that says a tantrum is coming than actual tears, though it could lean that way if Din gets worked up enough. “I can wash it myself. I can, I’m not a baby.”_

_His wife frowns, “Din, it’s late and I don’t want dinner to burn. So, let’s go to the bathroom and wash your hair properly, I don’t want to argue with you.” Din is immediately beginning to truly whine now, his mother is trying to gently lead him by the shoulder but by now Din has had enough. He’s reached the tail end of his little patience, and for a child it’s not much. He’s beginning to slide to the floor, ready to make his mother drag him and turn this entire thing into a major battle of wills and failing patience. Stubborn these two, they have no idea how a like they are. He can’t help but laugh, this is so much more life in this single moment of observation than he’s felt in a while. His thoughts always go dark this time of year. But his son is living and healthy and so willful._

_They both look up, Din with his knees on the floor trying to be dead weight as his poor mother is trying to haul him up to the bathroom by his armpits. “Daddy!” that one word means so much to him, especially now. That happy yell and the weight of his little boy crashing into him, happy to see him after he’s been gone all day at work. And a welcome distraction from mom’s nefarious plots no doubt. He scoops Din into his arm with a slight grunt from how tired his back feels after working, he presses kisses to his boys’ temple and hair. And yes, Din only did the bare minimum of washing. He still smells the way most children do after a hard day of outside play, like dirt and stars only knows what else. His wife steps up to him, still frustrated with their boy but happy he’s here to help out now. He knows she needs him; she can’t do it all. He kisses her cheek then her lips, she smiles at him. “Dinner will be a bit, I have to-“_

_“Don’t worry about Din. I’ll see to it he bathes properly.” The look of relief on her face is all the thanks he needs, not that he needs any thanks to tend to his child. “Dinner should be ready when you’re both done.” She turns away back to the kitchen as Din immediately begins to whine again. “None of that, now. Your mommy and I just want you to be healthy and part of that means being clean. So, you and I will take a bath.”_

_“Just gonna get dirty ‘gain anyway…” Din is mumbling into his shoulder “Don’t wanna take ‘nother stupid bath.”_

_“You still have to take a bath. You can’t eat or sleep in your bed dirty. Nobody likes a dirty child. Your poor mother works hard all day so you can eat, and she does a lot to take care of us. You should be respectful and do your part by minding her.” Din shoves his head into his shoulder hard, a little embarrassed and guilty for causing trouble. “I know you don’t mean to make things hard on mommy, but try to be a good boy. Taking a proper bath isn’t the hardest thing you’ll have to do to make mommy happy. Remember she deserves to rest too, she can’t do that if she has to always mind everything you do. Besides, don’t I take a bath every night I come home?”_

_They’ve entered the small bathing room in their home, it’s more than he had as a child on the family farm, sharing a converted trough with his elder brother and little sister. This room has the toilet and main sink in the first part of the room, a small shelving unit holds that nights clean towels and night clothes and a few extra bathing supplies. A sliding door reveals the combo tub and shower stall, the entire space is tiled to make cleaning easy. The shower is the first place one enters; it’s a flat floor space not much more than three feet in either direction, the back of it that is to the left of the door slopes down into the in-ground tub. It’s designed for easy cleaning, the shower water running off into the tub where a drain sits at the bottom, the two steps act as bench seats for families or taller individuals. This makes father and son bathing together easier._

_“I still don’t wanna do it again.” This is said sullenly, he chuckles and places Din down in the first room. He turns to turn on the tub to fill. Turning back to Din he finds the boy is stripped of his bottoms and is wresting with his shirt. He lets him struggle a bit more, this whole thing did start with Din’s insistence that he can do things himself. He’s fully undressed by the time Din is calling for his help, he’s managed to get the shirt up to his elbows, but he can’t manage pulling it the rest of the way off. The boy is a comedic mess of bending and twisting, not actually using his arms or hands to lend in the process at all. He remembers his mother most at times like this, she had said that children often have trouble with tasks that they seem old enough to perform. Din is only six and his body has yet to learn the fine motor mechanics that adults have. That’s what makes undressing a convoluted puzzle but dressing himself rarely comes with problems._

_“Alright now, let’s see what we can do about this mess you’ve made. I don’t think mommy will be happy with either of us if you have to live the rest of your life like this.” Din whines a little more, mostly about not wanting to stay stuck as he is. As though he believes his father would in fact leave him like this at all. Pulling the shirt off the boy in one easy slide that leaves his hair more wrecked than before to find his face is flushed from his struggles, he smiles at him._

_“Thank the stars, Din! I was worried for a moment. I didn’t think I’d ever see your precious face again!”_

_Din hugs his left leg, his face pressing into his thigh. “uhn—uh!” As if such a retort is all that needs to be said. The sound of a soft beep lets him know the tub is filled and he picks Din up to place against his left side. “Alright, bath time. Let’s both get clean and eat mommy’s yummy smelling food.” Din nods “She made p’ka tonight. That’s my favorite”_

_“Mommy does make good p’ka.”_

_“It’s the best!”_

_Entering the tub, he sets Din on his lap to bathe him proper. The boy is fussy at first, still insisting he can do it. He lets him fuss; it’ll only tire him out quicker. And it does, because soon he’s letting his head fall back into his father’s strong fingers as they suds his hair in a soothing massage. Din is all but falling asleep on his lap now, eyes closed and quiet. “Time to submerge, sweetheart. Get all the soap out.”_

_The tub is large enough that Din can swim two small strokes in any direction, so he literally dives beneath the water to rinse. He laughs watching him, there is no bubbles to impede his vision so he can keep a close eye on Din. As the boy swims as best he can under water which isn’t much, they don’t have any large water masses nearby for swimming practice, he washes himself. After rinsing himself he calls Din back to him and after checking that his hair is mostly soap free, he soaps a rag and washes Din’s body. Eliciting giggles and shrieks when he runs the cloth over Din’s sides, tummy and feet. When this is done, he pulls the drain and leads Din to the shower, where they do a proper rinse off._

_He pulls a set of towels down to first dry himself quickly then lays it on a dry patch of floor and pulls Din between his legs to dry him, taking special care to press but not pull his curls so they dry well. A trick he learned for his own curls, he can’t just rub a towel over his head and expect his hair to be well dried or even manage a comb if he does that. When done he lets Din leave his side to pull on his night clothes, dressing himself and picking up Din’s mostly dry towel to begin pressing his own curls properly. They leave the bathroom for the kitchen, where his wife is setting the final bowl on to the table, she obviously heard them finishing up._

_They all sit down to dinner and normal family conversation. Din talks about anything and everything he saw, heard and did. Whatever comes to memory. His wife and he take Din’s quiet moments stuffing his mouth to discuss their own day and some minor household needs._

_“Din is growing again; he’ll need new tunics and pants. His night clothes should be fine, I made them larger, so he’d grow into them, I haven’t had to let them out yet. His shoes may need replacing soon too. We could all use new boots if we can swing it.”_

_“I did hear they may be looking for volunteers for over time, I’ll make sure the foreman knows he can sign me up.”_

_“Food supplies are running low and the other wives have told me that the market’s prices are increasing. No one seems to know why exactly, there were rumors about…” her eyes cut to Din and back to his quickly “Imps being the reason.”_

_“Nonsense, there are no Imps here. The factory would be in trouble or they’d intercept the supply lines entirely. It’s probably just greedy merchant’s hiking the prices again. I trust you to get fair deals for what we need. Use whatever we have in the budget right now to get basic supplies for our food needs, I’ll take Din out to hunt and gather this weekend. That should cover us until the merchants see sense again when no one can buy their wares and they lose money.”_

_They both chuckle over that, it isn’t the first time the merchants have attempted to squeeze the locals for more than a supply or ware is worth. Every time they are reminded that they live on a small, far out planet with only supply ships for common visitors. No one ever comes here. It’s a rare sight to see anyone here who isn’t pilot or crew for said ships. It’s the closest trade their planet sees and they’re not remarkable in what they trade. Raising the prices on anything local only causes the locals to turn to other means of getting what they need, and if the item is not a need but a want, well most are willing to wait long enough for the prices to drop again. The merchants are the only ones who lose out._

He never wanted Din to learn about the cruelty of death. It swoops in, uninvited and demanding. Death took his own father, his elder brother and baby sister with a cruel sickness. One by one, they succumbed to the disease. His baby sister was the first to go. Normally he’d have been out tending to the fields his sick father and brother couldn’t, trying to keep them going. He’d been twelve, soon to be thirteen years old later that week. His mother would stay at the house, tirelessly tending to their sick loved ones. She had to go out to the nearest village, to restock their food supplies. He had left the fields untended that day so he could take over for his mother, she wouldn’t be home till evening, though she had left before dawn. Nothing would have prepared him for the horrors of that day. Nor the week to come.

It started with a cough. A hacking, wet sound that came from his baby sister. She was five years old; how could such a tiny, delicate thing make such a horrendous noise? It sounded as though she were literally coughing up her own insides. It became serious very quick. Suddenly; she was flailing about, her thin limbs thrashing violently, chest heaving and eyes and mouth wide. He ran to her side trying to calm her, thinking she was having a very violent coughing fit, though he knew instinctually this was no coughing fit. Her head snapped back with such force he feared she’d break her neck; her wide eyes were leaking tears that tracked past her temples into her hair. Her mouth was wide and suddenly, she gave a great wracking cough. It came with blood. Too much blood, not the kind from a too harsh cough. She was bleeding like she’d been stabbed or shot, but the wound was inside her throat. He watched terrified, as a mass of red welled up from her throat and began to leak down the sides of her mouth, it was so much it was overflowing. Her little hands with delicate fingers became like claws, she was grabbing and pulling and clawing at him. _Help me. Help me._ Her face was terrified, her eyes filled with such pain and the veins within them going redder from the strain. She was choking, and he was screaming.

He didn’t realize it at first, he was screaming all kinds of things. For help, for his mother, for the father and brother who were in arms reach but too deep in the fever to wake. He held her in his arms as he cried and begged her to hold on. And she, choking on her own blood, chest heaving violently trying to breathe and expel all at once. Her face was purpling and her bloodshot eyes (one of them deep red from a blown blood vessel) rolled upwards and her lashes fluttered intermittently. She died like that. Her face contorted in a desperate attempt to scream as she choked on her own mortality.

His mother found them like that, his arms cradling her little form with distant eyes that had no more tears. His mother’s screams would haunt him forever, he’d never heard something so broken. So, gut wrenchingly primal that it touched more than your heart, it touched the soul. It was enough to finally rouse his father and brother, he wished it hadn’t. His father’s cries for his baby girl were just awful, perhaps more so. He lay only feet from his dead daughter as she had died violently, with her only source of comfort a brother who didn’t know how to help her. He hadn’t been there for his baby when she needed him the most. His cries interrupted by his own coughing and his frail body trying to drag itself to her side, broke something in himself. His elder brother just wept, as weak as it was from his own illness.

Death did not give them peace. It came again. And it was just as violent and awful, he didn’t want to see it again. He wanted to run and hide. His exhausted parents trying to comfort their dying eldest in his death throes. He slumped to his knees at his bedside, by his brother’s knees and wept and held on to his leg. _Don’t go, don’t leave me. I can’t do this again._ The thrashing stopped, no blood. And it was like they could all breathe. It all seemed okay, no more fits the rest of the day. Nothing into the night. Both his father and brother fell into the exhausted sleep of the ill, he and his mother tried to stay awake to tend to any nightly needs. But as the candles dwindled and snuffed, they fell to their own exhausted slumber.

They all woke the next day to find his brother dead. Blood drenching his face and the sheets beneath him, matting his own curly hair. His body and face suggested his end had been as gruesome as their sister. Eyes wide and dried tear tracks visible on the side of his face not twisted towards his left side. Fingers stiff and clutching his own tunic. He died alone in the dark, with no way to scream and no one to hear.

That had been the final straw for his father, he passed later that same day. His death was not violent, but it was equally silent. He had been awake when they moved his brothers’ body to the storage room where his sister lay. When they came back holding on to each other from their tears they found him silent and turning cold. He died to be with his lost children, he would meet them on the other side so they wouldn’t be alone. He’d already failed to be there at their deaths, but he would be there for their afterlife.

They buried them there in the small field behind the family home. No neighbors or townsfolk to help, there had been no time to call for anyone. Just as they toiled and struggled to keep them alive, they alone toiled to bury them. And they lost the farm. With one young son who is not on the documents to take over the farm, they lost it all. Death took everything the week he turned thirteen.

He would spend the next seven years toiling at various jobs to care for his mother and himself, they moved about a lot. Nothing was steady enough for a teen boy and it never paid enough. Only enough to eat and keep a roof over their heads temporarily, and most of the time is was workers living spaces. Shared with thirty other workers and their families. Not until he came across a small township with a small factory, small port and workers guild. Here he finally found a job that would pay him a man’s wages, that would take him seriously as an adult. He was able to finally pay for a small one room flat, a secure place for their little family. It was here he met her, the young woman who would be his wife and the mother of their son.

For three more years he toiled hard in the factory, made himself a reliable worker. He met her at the factory, she’d only been there a week. It wasn’t her kind of work; she struggled a great deal though her pride made her keep at it. They spent their lunch breaks together; he would offer to buy her a meal on their early morning walks to work. It led to dating and meeting his mother, she moved in with them a year later. When his mother began getting ill and too old to be left home without the fear something would happen, she left the factory to stay home and tend to his mother. Ten weeks later, they learned she was pregnant. They chose to bond in a simple ceremony that his mother attended and witnessed. He had two Omegas in his life now, his family was growing, and he wouldn’t fail them this time.

Din was born that summer, a healthy child who scrunched his face up at the world and mewled in protest. He was the most beautiful child he’d ever seen, and he wept. They all wept. His mother fawned over Din, she loved him so much. Three Omegas lived in his house now and they were all perfect. His mother passed before Din’s second Life Day. She had gone gentle, Death for once had been kind. And as Din grew, he fell ill as all children do, even now he rushes home to be with his ill little one.

Every time Din coughed his father would clutch him close, waiting for the blood and choking. Only for the little boys fit to end and demand more stories or water, mostly both. He never denied him, he couldn’t. Each day Din breathed was a blessing, every moment felt as vast and full as the stars in space. He devoted himself to his two remaining Omegas, to his last family.

Din knows nothing of Death.


	2. Mandokar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for amazing comments and support! I didn’t think anyone would be interested in this at all. Shout out to Synodic for the name generator (it was a MASSIVE help and officially the reason why these chapters are now moving forward) and for suggesting, alongside YaoiTrash01 that the surname of Djarin be given to Din’s adoptive father. As the chapters progress keep an eye on the TAGS (I’ll be adding more soon).

Cold pressure and muffled noise. Figures gliding alongside a grey expanse, slipping through strong winds. Where once the sky was clear and bright, warm with promise it is now muted by a growing presence of dark smoke. Muffled concussions and bright flares from the surface below, intermixed with streaks of red blaster fire. Swarming figures moving here and there across the field of battle, twisting this way and that around corners or falling. Few will rise again, their fall triggers hesitance in those around them and more bodies fall. The screams are clear now.

The figures above begin to descend, bodies moving against the winds from prone positions easy for flight, to angle their descent with their feet as their guide. Closer and closer, within range to reign down upon the battle droids. It doesn’t take long for them to process and switch from destroying the helpless to return fire on their combatants. The sound of pinging metal and the heavy thud of droids falling, commands heard without hearing passed between the avengers. Instinctual to know where to go, how to move, where to aim. Avoiding as many innocents as possible, they’re running in every direction. Trapped in a cycle of running and no real time to assess who is friendly, they just run.

The bombardment of blasters, explosions, screams is louder now. It would be ringing in his ears were it not for his helmet. All around is a distraction of colors and sensations, his _traatika_ are in a constant state of movement. Shifting positions with seamless precision, aware of their surroundings as they glide and leap. The rapid fire of heavy weapons, the shifting air temperature and bright flare of a flamethrower.

_“Oya!”_

His shout is returned by many voices, some take up the cry and others call out in their own manner. But their triumph is heard all the same, met and resounded by those around them. It fuels the fires of aggression, stirs the spirit to fight with greater passion. It sends him springing with the aid of his jetpack, landing on building edges and the ground. He leaves behind many droids, their bodies further and further away as he absorbs into the continuing battle. Forging ever onward.

His advancing position puts him in place to be called upon to take to the air again. Many more droids have pinned down the people of this town, if they don’t act now this battle will be for nothing. What good is a battle when no one will think on your deeds? He’s had plenty of battles that were lost and won, battles that defined his earliest years that served to provide more knowledge on the field than in training. Good for any young warrior seeking their path, but it’s not enough now. He wants more from this life than waiting for another worthy battle, he wants more challenges than he has been getting. He’s feeling stagnant and he will not stand for it a moment longer.

He makes ground quickly, gaining on the persistent droids. Sweeping the area as he passes, noting every movement and stillness as he goes. Droids continue to fall to his shots and those of his kin. He just manages to spy the droids disappearing around a corner; more blaster fire, more explosions, screams. He’s gaining ground, if he sweeps further skyward and to his right, he’ll be in a prime location to come up on their six. They can begin to surround them, cut them off and finish it for good.

Just as he’s descending to a hovering position and taking aim on a droid from behind, his vision momentarily sweeping further afield. He follows the guide of the droids arm to see two civilians, they’re turning away from a set of doors. A second droid is also turning their way, it all happens in slow motion. But it was within seconds that he was shooting down the first droid in the same moment it let loose a rocket. The explosion and resulting concussive blast momentarily covers the targeted area in a shower of dirt and thick white smoke.

Turning his attention to shooting down other droids in the vicinity as he waits for the smoke to clear. A loud _thunk_ similar to a heavy door being lifted and dropped. It catches his attention even with the chaos around him, like a bell ringing in his soul. He turns back to see the second droid has advanced on the doors. The bodies of the two civilians lie a few feet away, broken and unmoving. The droid seems interested in what is within the cellar.

There is very little reason for two civilians to desperately linger near shelter instead of entering it, slamming the doors in a panicked moment as they see approaching danger. There can only be one thing in that cellar. The only thing two people might be inclined to risk their safety for. One last desperate attempt to guard their most precious belonging, one worth dying for.

He’s rocketing forward across the square as he pops the droid to distract it. A child is not an imminent threat, it can always turn back when the hostile is dead. But he won’t let that happen, in rapid succession he downs the damnable _hut’uun._ It falls before it’s fully turned around, the metallic _clang_ it makes is satisfying.

Approaching the open doors, his shadow cast in front of him from the sun behind. It’s not enough to obscure exactly what he thought he’d find. A small child is sprawled within, surrounded by containers of unknown substance. Their small face is cast in his shadow and partially obscured by a red hood attached to similar full length covering. He extends his right arm to the child, the palm of his hand turning up.

The kid is staring at him, but shifts the slightest bit to their right, they might be readying to hide. Arm still extended he uses the universal sign for _come here_ , gently pulling his fingers into his palm and back out.

“It’s safe, come on out.”

This seems to be the invitation the child was waiting on. Pushing up from the ground by their right hand, steadying themselves when they tip the slightest bit left. Either a young child with a still developing balance or more likely, from being shaken up from the prospect of a lonely death.

The child approaches the ladder and climbs just high enough for him to reach down and offer his hand. That tiny hand reaches for him without hesitance, extending enough for their sleeve to expose light tan skin. The second little fingers curl around his thumb, pressing their palms together he curls his own larger hand. Trusting and small, not once thinking he could be the enemy. That he could easily shove this child hard enough to cause their death or lift them up into the muzzle of his blaster. It could have been anyone else that found this child, children often go missing at times like this. They’re vulnerable and easy to convince that you’re there to help, adults are supposed to help. It is horrible to think death is a kinder fate to a child of war than the life they are at risk of if traffickers and gangs find them first.

He sets the child down to his right and only now he can tell that this child is a boy. One with what appears to be curling brown hair under his hood and large brown eyes. Eyes squinting into the sun, set in a face that is already becoming terrified of the continuing battle around them. He kneels, reaching to turn the boy his way to regain his attention. The child takes a half step into him as more Mandalorian’s drop from the sky, blasters ringing through the air and dropping droids in every direction. The boy’s face is slowly turning to quiet wonder, intense observation as he watches all of this.

He can’t blame the child one bit as he too watches his kin, after such a stressful day this must be quite the sight. He tries to see it from the child’s eyes, knelt as he is, he has a kind of perspective. One explosion of fire from a downed droid causes the boy to flinch and turn his face away as the heat radiates outward. He instinctively brings his arm up to shield the worst of it from the child.

“Take the kid, we’ll cover you.”

A firm nod that he’s heard he turns back to the boy. “I’m going to pick you up, don’t be afraid. We’ll have to fly out of here, so you need to hang on to me tight. Alright?”

A small nod, his little face a mask of quiet seriousness. He pulls the boy close and feels the weight of his hands resting on his shoulders as he swings the child up and onto his left side. As the explosions of the battle continue, he pulls the child tight to his chest, shifting him from his side to his front. He secures the boy with his right arm wrapping around the child’s side and into the middle of his shoulders, his left would take the weight of the child by supporting his rear with his forearm, but the jetpack could easily scorch the child if his legs are not situated just right. So, he holds him tight across his right side down to his left hip. He takes three strides as his jetpack warms up, on the fourth they’re lifting into the air. The boy squeezes him tighter with thin arms, his head shifting tells him the child is watching the world fall away. And the battle along with it.

As they continue their ascent the little one buries his face in his shoulder, though beskar is hardly comfortable for a child in need of comfort. He’s soon scrunching his face as the wind whips around them and through his clothes. A small, tired whine lets him know how distressed the child is. It’s cold up here among the clouds and the air pressure is probably causing discomfort as well. He feels the boy shiver and try to again turn his head into him. He moves his hand to the boy’s neck momentarily, giving the underdeveloped gland a comforting squeeze.

“What is your name, _ad’ika_?”

Silence is his answer, he waits a bit to see if the boy heard him.

“You speak common, don’t you?” He seemed to understand him before they lifted off.

“Din.”

He turns his head a fraction, “My name is Din.” Good, he tightens his hold on the boy to let him know he heard. “Din is a good name. How old are you, Din?”

He feels a slight shrug, “Mommy says I’m six now. I was five, but I got bigger.”

“It is the way of children to grow.” He hesitates not sure how to ask, but the medics will need to know and if he can spare the child being asked too often after his rough day well, better to ask. “Din, when I found you, who told you to hide there?”

“The bad things were coming. The big ones. They were chasing us. Mommy and Daddy told me to go down there cause it was safe.” Din’s arms tighten around him again and his forehead thumps against his shoulder. “But they didn’t come down too, they closed the doors and there was a big sound. One of the bad ones found me, then you came. You made it lay down like the people outside.”

He slowly nods along as Din talks, its rambling but he gets the important information. The two civilians were Din’s parents, and they’re dead. Laying down, as Din seems to understand it. “Do you have other family? Maybe people not living in the town? A grandparent or an Aunt or Uncle?” Din shakes his head, no other family. “You’re sure? No one Mommy or Daddy took you to visit far away?” Din nods before his quieting voice says “Wasn’t allowed to leave the street in front of my house. Not without Mommy or Daddy.”

“Do you know your secondary status?” Din pulls away slightly to look at him, his eyes are bleary, and his face is getting red from the wind. But his face says he’s confused. “What’s second…dairy…?” here he scrunches his face more. “Are you an Omega or an Alpha? Beta?” The continued confusion says enough.

“Alright, that’s okay. The medics will figure it out. What about a last name Din? Do you know that?”

A humming noise is what he hears, and the boy says something he can’t quite make out, but it’s followed by a shrug. “You don’t know?”

“My head hurts.”

“I’m sure it does, all those loud noises.” A small nod “We’ll land soon, then the medics will look you over to make sure you’re okay. Then we’ll get you something to eat and drink and have a nice nap. Does that sound good, Din?” Another hum with a tinier nod, the boy squeezes closer with a small mewl. He squeezes the boy back. Soon, he tells himself. Soon they’ll land and he can begin the process of looking for Din’s family. He’s only six years old and he’s been through a great ordeal, it’s normal for children of war who are separated from their families to forget things or shut down and not talk. Some children even lie, too scared to give out the information they’ve been taught not to give to strangers.

They lapse into silence for the time it takes for the encampment to come into view. He’s passing other Mandalorian’s departing for the battle, they only give them a glance as they go by. Foundlings are not an uncommon sight being brought to the camp; it is considered a great honor to bring a Foundling in. Some of the adopted Foundlings among the clans were once children of war, some of them were found on battlefields not of their home planet because traffickers had taken them from a previous war zone. He’d heard of some Foundlings taken by traffickers whose families were still alive, they were returned quickly once their _cabur_ could get a proper genetic match. For some unmated Mandalorian’s this was akin to giving up one’s only child, especially when looking for missing families could take years. But it was dishonorable and not in the child’s best interest to keep them from those whom they were deeply connected. But the Foundling’s who had no families were seen as a great gift. Unmated Mandalorian’s were gifted an _ad_ when they had none, a chance to raise a child and pass their knowledge on.

As they neared the medical drop zone outside the Foundling Center, he readjusted Din in his arms. “We’re going to descend now. I’ve got you so don’t squirm too much.” The only answer he got was Din turning his head around as much as he could without too much movement, the boy’s eyes wandering over everything and everyone he saw. “They all look like you.”

“We are all _Mando’ade._ Who we are or where we come from is not important, only our actions define us.”

Touching down he readjusts Din to his left side, settling the boy there to easily glance about. They are met by a young medic, too young to join the battle but old enough to tend to less serious medical needs and the Foundlings. Their presence isn’t necessary to the battle or even all that helpful to the Medical Guard, beyond freeing up their hands from Foundling duties. All Mandalorian’s are taught to tend to their own medical needs, help on the field of battle may come too late or not at all. It was a necessary teaching. Only the most critically injured or those cases outside the abilities of the young medics are tended to by the Medical Guard. The younger medics are here largely for Foundling duties but also to acclimate themselves to the sounds and sights of a true battle. They are largely observers, but Foundling duties gives them a level of responsibility equal to adults. They are expected to tend to all the needs of the Foundlings, taking temporary Guardianship of the little one’s until their _cabur_ comes back to claim them or their families. Until then, the Foundlings are their sole purpose. Performing to expectation or beyond in this area is seen as a sign of maturity among clans or within small families.

When they step up to the young medic she has a data pad ready. “ _Olarom,_ I’ll need the little one’s name and other information.”

“I can handle some of that.”

They turn to enter the medical wing of the center, she leads them to a bed and then hands over the data pad to him. “His name is Din. He speaks common.” She nods as Din slips from his arms to the bed, “Hello, Din. My name is Ri Dytt, I’m going to check you to make sure you’re healthy. Is that okay?”

Din looks from Ri and then at him uncertain if this is okay. “It’s alright Din. I’ll be here the whole time.” Din’s tense shoulders slump a little and looks shyly back at Ri, he hesitates a second more then, nods. “Okay, Din. First, can you tell me if anything hurts or is cut?”

He tunes the two out to concentrate on the registration they keep when Foundlings and survivors are brought in, it helps reunite families quickly if they can quickly search for an individual already in their database. He fills in everything he knows already, the parents he lists as _suspected deceased,_ there had been no time to check. But he’s certain their dead, but it has to be confirmed before he can change the list. He marks the location he last saw their bodies and any identifying features such clothing or suspected similarities between child and parents. This also requires a photo that’ll be taken after the boy is medically cleared and clean. He leaves weight and height out, the medic will handle that. Physical descriptions include hair, skin and eye color but also what the child is brought in wearing, any identifying birth marks or scars will also be noted by the medic. Din’s name is entered but not his surname and the location he was retrieved from, _a cellar located in the town square, not far from the parent’s bodies. No other known familial ties._

A throat clearing catches his attention and he looks to the medic. “He needs to bathe now, nothing is medically wrong. He’s clear to bathe and be moved to the nursery. Will you be returning to the field or shall I release him to you?”

“He’ll stay with me.”

Din’s relieved sigh and immediate move to scooch closer to him is automatic. He hands back the data pad and she reads through it quickly while he gathers Din into his arms. “I’ll need his photo when he’s bathed and changed.” He nods and turns to walk to the back of the room that leads to the refreshers. “He’s an Omega by the way.” He stops to look back, “Just thought you should know. He’ll be very clingy with you for some time yet, until we can find… until confirmation.”

A firm nod and he turns back to his destination. He sets Din down in the refreshers sonic shower, they are both standing inside it from the minimal space. Din is looking progressively tired; he’s blinking slower and he’s swaying. “You’ll need to undress, ad’ika. I don’t suppose you can bathe yourself?”

Din looks around sluggishly and seems confused. “Where’s the tub?”

“I suppose that answers my question. Will you be okay with me helping you undress and shower?”

A tired nod and a small fist furiously rubbing one eye provides his permission. Removing the hood and finding it attached to the tunic makes its removal easy, boots and pants follow. He directs Din to the center of the stall and sets the dials. A loud squawk seems to pierce his helmet causing him to nearly flinch, the child has jumped forward into his body with wide eyes. “It’s alright, Din. That’s what sonic showers do, they get you clean fast without needing water.”

Din’s face says he doesn’t believe him and even seems to express he’s been betrayed somehow. He smiles behind his helmet. “I promise, you won’t be hurt. Have I lied to you yet?”

“No. But, I don’t like it. It feels weird.”

“I know, but I promise it’ll be very fast.”

“’kay…”

The bathing process proceeds quickly from there, dressing Din in a fresh tunic and pants goes a little less quickly. Din is nearly falling asleep against him and he’s having a hard time being helpful in his redressing. But he manages to figure out how to maneuver the boy just right and finally he’s dressed. Returning to the main medical unit they wake Din enough to take a good photo. Normally Din would be sent to the nursery with the other Foundlings, but since his _cabur_ does not have to return to battle, he is able to take Din with him to gather a bit of food in the form of a simple stew and containers of water. It’s criminally tasteless but Din manages to slurp about half of his up before he can’t eat anymore. He finishes his and Din’s stew ration, the tasteless shit shouldn’t be wasted after all.

Gathering Din into his arms he lies down on the cot in the barrack assigned to young Foundlings whose families are most likely dead and their Guardians. This separation from the nursery is intended to avoid any possible mistaken identities or individuals who might see an opportunity to take a child who has no one. Traffickers are notorious for claiming to be a child’s family and the damned fools within the Republic don’t even confirm their stories. They just hand them over. But here, only the Foundlings with a strong chance of going home stay in the nursery until the Mandalorian’s are satisfied they are uniting them with their true families, this also helps the emotional and mental health of the Foundlings who are not as lucky. They won’t be burdened by questions of why their families didn’t survive or why no one has come to claim them on behalf of dead relatives. Until the retrieval units go in to collect the dead and genetic samples to compare to the Foundlings, Din is better off here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mandokar - "the right stuff" the epitome of Mando virtue, a blend of aggression, tenacity, loyalty and a lust for life  
> traatika - platoon  
> Oya! - literally "Let's hunt!" but has multiple meanings, typically said positively and triumphant  
> cabur - guardian, protector  
> Mando'ade - plural for Mandalorians, also 'sons/daughters of Mandalore'  
> Olarom - Welcome (as in a greeting)
> 
> I skipped adding in the more common words you've likely seen in other fics by now, so above are the one's I have not seen too commonly yet. And there will be more as chapters go on lol. Fascinatingly Mando'a falls perfectly in line with the A/B/O world building I'm doing here, the words are very gender neutral. The word for buir is both Mother and Father. Which for a fic containing Alpha females and Omega Males is perfect. Literally could not be easier!


	3. Haastal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken to listening to Epic Music Mixes on YouTube and they're legit fueling my creativity. I feel especially proud of this chapter. I wanted to drop more than just two chapters, so I'm going to try to keep writing even though it's 2:38 AM where I live lol But I literally have chapters 4 through 7 planned out. And I REALLY wanna get them out while I am still inspired. Keep your eyes open for more chapters either later today or this weekend.

Tharr Djarin never thought having a son would be the challenge he’d been looking for. All his restless days waiting for battle after battle, met with only disappointment and lacking any true thrill. Destroying droids has never brought him the feeling of truly being _Manda_ , of being Mandalorian in all the ways that matter. Not in the same way that taking down tough bounties and warrior enemies has, not in the spirit of a rousing hunt. He’d been dangerously close to feeling _dar’manda,_ lost to his heritage, split from his own identity and soul. He’d honestly felt… fear or rather anxiety in the months leading up to that battle. If he found nothing worthy in this battle, who was he anymore?

It had been so long since Tharr experienced a heightened sense of battle, one that called out to his very soul and seemed to make the world slow down. Where all that he felt was the beating of his heart, the world existed in only himself and his place on the battlefield. But the sound of those cellar doors as they dropped open, a resounding echo in the soul. He had not felt that since his younger years. Time had slowed once more and called to him. He thought he felt whole again. But he didn’t truly feel whole, life didn’t really slow. Not until he laid eyes on Din. And the pulse of battle only seemed to highlight the feeling of being _jatne manda,_ at peace with himself and the world around him.

When the confirmation came that Din was alone in this world, he’d taken no time in accepting the child for his own. In the thirty-six years he’d been alive, he had only involved himself in The Trials twice. He’d never taken a mate and was known to be adamant on never bonding. Tharr never expressed any feelings on child rearing, not to anyone but himself. It just wasn’t in his immediate plans. A child was not part of the path he thought he was on. Perhaps when he was older, when life forced him to slow or he’d die before then. Life has a funny way of shifting priorities, of taking all your later days and making them immediate realities.

The words of intent were spoken in front of his kin who had joined the fighting, witness to _aliit_ Tharr Djarin’s claim to become a clan of two. Din had been overwhelmed by feelings of security and relief, but his grief remained for his fallen family. Din was the only Foundling their clan was taking home; the other clans had taken in three of their own Foundlings and the remainder had been reunited with their kin. As he set about gathering his kit and packing a few supplies for Din, his clan was seeking out the bodies of Din’s fallen parents. Stored within the morgue set aside for the bodies of the Foundlings who had joined the clans, they two were gathered and bundled tightly individually, then together. As one. They had died together, so too would they be buried.

“It’s time.”

“We’ll be there.”

Setting aside their gathered supplies he carried Din to a clearing where pyres had been erected. His clan was gathered there leaving a space open for he and Din at the head. The bodies of Din’s parents placed on top along with Din’s old clothing and two small, carved mythosaur skulls with the words for family and eternity etched on each.

“We are here in solidarity for one of our own. The children are our future, this is the way. To dedicate one’s life to the defense and education of the future, to a child is a universal truth. One to which we hold venerable. As Mando’ade we do not turn our backs to this duty, no matter the place or the child. We give honor to these two who gave their lives to defend their _ad._ I see their sacrifice and honor it by taking on the duties they have left behind. Their son is my son, his life began with them and will continue with me. The role of _Buir_ is sacrosanct. I will uphold my duties to my _adiik_ or be judged for my failures. Truth, honor, vision.”

_“Haat, ijaa, haa’it.”_

The words seal the pact, his clan seals it with their words. A promise to hold him to that oath. He turns to Din, who is choking on his breath trying not to cry. Tharr kneels behind him and whispers, “Do you remember the words I taught you?”

Tearful eyes turn to him as his body shakes with hiccups.

“I’ll help you. Repeat what I say;”

_Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum._

_I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Kaeess Bryefirk. Jaigre Bryefirk._

Din is sobbing by the end, turning into him as one member strikes the torch to flames. Tharr takes Din’s face into his hands,

“You are as my son now. _Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad._ I know you as my child.”

“Bloodline is not important; but you as the Father, is the most valuable thing. Family is more than blood.”

_Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori’wadass’la. Aliit ori’shya tal’din._

As his kin recite these lines he’s handed the torch, leaving Din’s side he sets the pyre alight and returns to stand behind his _adiik,_ squeezing the child’s shoulders as they face the fire.

҉҉ **҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉**

Returning to the enclave had followed quickly, there had been just enough time to for the pyre to burn out when the call came to evacuate. The Republic was on its way, after they had already done much of the fighting. The cowards. They would arrive to smoldering buildings, an empty field and families already reunited. He gathered Din into his arms and rushed back to gather their things, the child was emotionally exhausted and too caught up in his grief to pay attention to the rushed activities of the clans. Gathered with his kin, they boarded their small dropship, the last remaining one of its type to their clan. The space was cramped and forced those not needed in the cabin to sit on the floor. They made for their covert with haste, small as their clan had become, they were among the first to leave. Just as well, the clans who kissed the boots of their Republic Master’s needn’t know they were here.

The next few weeks were silent one’s. Din was readily accepted within the covert, his kin providing their affirmations to Tharr’s vow as witnesses. That all the proper rights had been met. Not much more was said, nothing more needed to be said. It was done and Din was a Foundling of their clan. The son of Tharr Djarin. Din was too young yet to cover his face with the helmet, in a few more years he would be presented one. But not now.

Too much of Din’s life was disrupted, it was too much to ask of a child whose whole world was already drowned in uncertainty. It was not right to expect a child to come to terms with a new life, a new parent, a new way of living. He’d already been forced to let go of more than he knew how to handle. The boy was in a state of despair and mourning, he wasn’t even ready to face his new life with his Buir.

Many of their days together had so far been quiet moments of Din trailing after him like a second shadow, he hadn’t talked since the ceremony before they left. The only sound was the boys whimpers at night when caught up in his nightmares. That little body flinching and curling against his own in the bedding they shared. It pained him to see it, he couldn’t save the boy from his memories. But he could fill his waking hours from one day to the next, until the boy began to live again.

Din didn’t play with the covert’s other children, as much as he tried to encourage him to do so. It only resulted in the boy standing stiff among his peers and constantly looking to see if he was still there. That he hadn’t left too. Inevitably the other children just left him be, they stopped trying to incite him to play. Nowadays Din sat beside him as he worked, tagged along wherever he walked. Waited outside doorways where he couldn’t enter because he was a child.

Currently Din was in his arms as they walked the perimeter of makeshift huts setup within this hidden canyon the covert was temporarily staying at. It was too open to stay long, but they had yet to find a place that was right just yet. For now, the canyon that may have been a cave long ago, was hidden by the jungles that covered it both outside and within. It was almost like a meadow within the great expanse, a small clear pond of fresh water provided a safe and reliable source for much of their needs. It would be a perfect place to stay, were it not within the Republic’s reach. As they walked, he managed to get Din to quietly list the things he saw, heard, smelt and felt.

_Darkness. Grass. Wind. Fire. Water. Cold. Dirt. Voices. Leather. Armor. Helmet. Metal. Beskar. Buir._

Having made a full circle and come back to their own hut, Tharr stoops with Din in his arms. Once inside he sets him on their bedding and rubs his arms a bit to warm him back up. Once done, he removes his helmet. Brown eyes meet brown eyes.

“Tell me what you didn’t see. What you didn’t hear.”

“Droids.”

“What else?”

“Screaming. Crying… Dying. Blasters.”

“Why is that?”

“…because,… because they aren’t here.”

“And if they were?”

“…”

“I would keep you safe. I wouldn’t let them hurt you, _ad’ika_. Do you remember why?”

A small whine that has Din’s head dropping to his chest, a sniffle followed by a deep shuddering breath.

“Beca… because you’re my _Buir_?”

“That’s right. I am your _Buir_ , and you will be safe with me. I will teach you all I know, I will help you be strong until you can be strong for yourself. Because you _are_ strong, _ad._ You will survive this just as you survived the droids. You will go on and be brave, you’ll be happy again one day. And I will help you, _verd’ika.”_

They do this process for many nights more, one of the other children has a nightmare they have not had in a long time. Their screams startles everyone awake, but they settle when they realize it’s being handled. Turning back to his own son he finds Din wild eyed and chest heaving. He settles back beside him and whispers reassurances that the droids haven’t found them, he’s not hearing the screams of the dying. Sleep is fitful for them both that night, Din is too wound up to fall into a true sleep. He sleeps like a soldier, half awake and ready for trouble. It makes Tharr unsettled, long used to a state of battle readiness. So that same energy mingles with his own and neither father nor son can rest well.

The next morning finds them sat outside their hut, the child clearly bleary eyed from lack of sleep but still too disturbed to settle and his father with helmet on busily shaving sticks into points for a more primitive form of hunting the next day.

Din moves restlessly beside him, switching from his crossed legged position on the floor to his knees. He still keeps a tight grip on his buir’s pant leg as he distantly observes the rest of the clan going about their day.

“Come here.”

Din’s head snaps around to him inquisitively, Tharr pats the inside of his right thigh and Din stands to step between his legs. Maneuvering his work carefully, he turns Din around and lifts him onto his right leg so that the boys two legs are straddling his right.

“Take it.”

He opens his palm to present Din with the knife he’s been using, the tools handle facing them. Din looks back at him with a tiny frown, but mostly he’s curious. Setting the stick he’d finished to the side he wraps Din’s hand around the handle.

“Just like this, not too tight.”

Carefully he prods Din’s fingers into the right position, his little hand doesn’t really fit the blades handle well but that isn’t the point right now. Encompassing his sons’ hand with his own he applies the right pressure,

“Feel that? How much force I use to hold it? Grasp the handle firmly, just like this.”

He feels him readjusting under his own fingers, “Good. This is how we shave a stick to hunt with. It’s good to know many ways to hunt and sometimes the more primitive methods are the best. It will help you learn to handle a blade properly until you can start learning other blade skills.” He places his free hand on Din’s chest,

“It is not a toy. It may be more simple than other knives, but they can all kill. You must respect them, or accidents can happen. You are not permitted to use anything that can be a weapon without my supervision, is that clear?”

“Yes, buir.”

“Good, today you start learning. First is to handle this blade and get a feel for carving. Many weapons can be made with one’s own hands and intelligence. You’ll start with this, it is a basic sharpened spear. The points can be fashioned in many ways to strengthen them, to make them more effective. But they can also be used as stakes to make a hut or a simple barricade if done right.”

He glides the knife and Din’s hand through the air, in various motions imitating the shaving he’d been doing earlier. He picks up a fresh branch, teaching Din about what he should look for. He guides Din in shaving the branches away, then instructs him how to determine what end to use for a strong hold that won’t bend, and break and which end is best for the point. Keeping Din’s hand in his he moves the stick just enough to begin sliding the blade cleanly down the branch, shaving and turning. Showing him how much force to use on a knot and why it’s important to cleanly cut the branches away so one does not have to spend too much time chipping away a stub left behind. It weakens the weapon when you take too much away.

They sit like that for many hours, until the last branch is whittled and ready to be hardened by fire. He teaches this to Din too. It’s simplistic enough. Din does everything asked of him without complaint, his keen eyes observing and absorbing everything. They pass many days like this, and the more Din learns from his buir the more he starts to open up. Until one day, his _verd’ika_ hesitates at his side and turns away from him. He watches him cross the open field between the many huts and walk right up to the other _ade._ He doesn’t hear what is said, but he joins them for the first time that day. A swelling pride fills his breast watching Din run about like the other children.

The months pass and so does their stay in the canyon, he’s disappointed to see it go. It’s the first place Din’ika has finally begun to accept his new life and those within it. But they’re packing up and moving on for some place new. The Republic has been expanding further in this direction and now they have no choice but to seek a new home in the Outer Rim. The Imps having been on the move as well, and right now the tribe has no love for either.

They spend the next few years moving about, trying one new home after another. Nothing really suits them or their needs well. More and more they can not go out and about in groups without whispers of their presence making it to the Republic who would be happy to see them purged or the Imps who would be all too happy to throw them at the Republic to get them off their own tails. They cannot risk their dwindling numbers to the possibility of working with the Imps, the trade off isn’t worth it. Not right now.

Though the constant moving is of some frustration to the adults and teens in their clan, it does provide the little one’s with changing environments that they grow accustomed to. They're even better at acclimating than their elders, easily finding new ways to play or things to challenge one another with. A desert environment once provided tiring games of tag and racing up and down the shifting dunes. Scraped and bruised limbs were common as the children learned to navigate the tricky sands. One sprained ankle seemed to be enough for the children to take their time to learn their new home, by the time they had mastered it they were moving on again.

The passing years and observant quiet that was Din Djarin molded a child in his buir’s likeness. His first helmet was accepted with pride and he was very meticulous in keeping it clean. Tharr instructed him in the way of life and survival. His knowledge of hunting expanded, he learned medicinal gathering, that led to medical care, how to cook when he was big enough to reliably help. His fine motor skills developed with every passing year, no longer too little to properly take apart his father’s weapons for cleaning. To put them back together. To shoot. His first carving knife specially modified just for him. His first rifle. His buir took him out for longer hunting trips, taught him their people’s songs and stories. He gets into fights with the other kids as they mature, sparring frequently.

At sixteen he’s had enough of big mouth Paz, and that was the first of many fights to come. Tharr Djarin’s son was feisty if nothing else, even though he lost most of those fights. The adults chuckled and praised Tharr for raising a child who so clearly had tenacity, he had guts for taking on such a big Alpha like Paz, who was nine years the boys senior. Maturity seemed to slap Din with a fighting spirit that couldn’t be controlled. For such a young Omega to openly pick a fight with an Alpha who was not only bigger and older, more experienced in combat. But to challenge an Alpha who was soon to be old enough for his first chance at The Trials. Din Djarin had a lot of _mandokar._

For twelve years of their lives Tharr raised his son, watching a small child transform daily before his eyes. Watches him grow from brown haired innocent into a black haired young man, one he is proud of. The moments they share are innumerable and intimate, as precious as anything a biological parent might have had. He’s there for every moment of his son’s life. For the growth spurts, the illnesses, the first punch that has him crying. He watches the bruises and scrapes become points of pride, gangly limbs become coordinated with repetition and his buir’s patient instructions. The boy’s first successful hunt on his own, an unsuspecting dinebek (a small but ferocious bear-like creature). He’d been so proud as Din dragged his impressive kill through the camp to their front door, to present to his buir. He couldn’t repress the laugh and the pride he felt. Father and son making good on the new trophy, the meat was portioned out to the clan for a feast and the fur was presented to the Armorer for his first act. His reward was the Matriarch’s permission to begin accompanying his buir on his smaller bounty hunting trips, a small but admirable reward for a small and admirable kill. The reward meets the act, because the dinebek is a good kill and it supports the tribe. So to, will his actions with his buir.

On another planet and yet another new home during those twelve years his boy passed into another act of adulthood. His first heat. Taking his son into the deep forests of their current home, he trains Din to protect himself at this vulnerable time in his life. The clan can be trusted, it is dishonorable to perform an act of rape, worse still if it is upon one’s own tribesmen. Especially on one who is too young for mating. But the world outside their enclave is not obligated to follow their code, it is a dangerous place out there. So, he takes Din into the forest, he makes him build their hut and set up the bedding. He teaches him how to fortify it, so his smell and sounds won’t attract Alphas or anyone in the habit of trafficking Omegas. He forces him to run and exercise, chasing the boy down again and again. Spars with him violently, more than ever before. Forces him up and running when he loses, until he can’t anymore. Then he makes him hunt and gather food and medicine. Tend his own wounds and cook their meals.

Din is noticeably tired and distraught. His Omega nature wants him to submit, make the angry Alpha stop hurting him. But the only way his buir will not be so aggressive anymore is if he submits by not submitting. For a week they carry on in this way, Tharr never letting his son rest long before he’s forcing him out of the safety of his nest and into the open wilds unprotected. And the hunt begins again.

When Din is eighteen years old, a young man with his buir’s skills and seven years of heats behind him, he takes his vows. He watches his son truly become _Mando’ade_ that day. Today he passes from childhood into a clean slate, _c'in vhetin,_ his acts judged from this day to the end of his days. When death claims him or dishonor ruins him.

_“Haat, ijaa, haa’it.”_

Truth, honor, vision.

Spoken in that quiet voice he’s come to know.

“ _This is the way. Oya manda!”_

He proclaims alongside their clan, acknowledging his son’s steps into adulthood.

They’ll feast tonight and tomorrow; Din will officially join him as a true _beroya._

A true Mandalorian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haastal - In this context it is a term for a lasting emotional scar, but it also lit. means dried blood, scab  
> Manda - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit. "The collective soul or heaven"  
> dar'manda - one who has lost their heritage, and so their identity and soul. Traditionally minded Mandos fear this state of not being.  
> jatne manda - a complex sense of being at peace with one's life and clan  
> aliit - refers to clan name, identity and family. In the sentence it first appears in I use it as the word family, as in a family name (Djarin)  
> Haat, ijaa, haa'it - "Truth, honor, vision." words used to seal a pact.  
> verd'ika - "Little Soldier" phase of endearment toward children, also the word for the rank of private  
> Din'ika - applying the suffix 'ika turns a person's name, notably children into "Little Din" etc. It is commonly used in a familiar way or a childhood name. There seems to a be a rule for names that have more syllables than Din's but it's not overly clear to just how that works yet. Thankfully Din's name is easy. This can also be used with adults, but only if you want them to kill you. Kinda like the Spanish 'ito or 'ita i.e. Carlos becomes Carlito meaning "Little Carlos" and Carla becomes Carlita.  
> mandokar - "the right stuff" in terms of Mando virtues of aggression, tenacity, loyalty and lust for life  
> c'in vhetin - Fresh start, clean slate. Literally "white field" or "virgin snow" - a term indicating the erasure of one's past when they become Mandalorian, judged only by what they do from that point on.  
> Oya manda! - expression of Mando solidarity and perpetuity, said with emotion or assertion.  
> beroya - bounty hunter
> 
> Age reference:  
> Tharr Djarin is 36 years old at the time he finds Din who is 6 years old. So he's 48 when Din becomes a Mandalorian, Din is now 18 when he takes the vows.  
> Paz Vizla: is 15 years old when Tharr brings Din to the clan, when Din is 16 and fights him the first time Paz is 25 and 27 when Din takes his vows.
> 
> The two music mixes I was especially inspired by:  
> 1: 2-Hours Epic Music Mix| Most Beautiful & Powerful Music - Emotional Mix Vol. 2  
> The song at 1:55:46 is what inspired my writing during the funeral/pyre scene  
> channel name is Pandora Journey | the song: Legend is by R. Armando Morabito ft. Aya  
> 2: The music that inspired the writing during Din's life in the covert:  
> We Will Meet Again - Sad Emotional  
> channel Charlie J. Restivo  
> songs start at 15:20 through 21:34


	4. The Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Ignore the edit, I'm just changing some minor errors I noticed. You don't have to re-read or anything, they just irritated me with their vile presence.
> 
> Again, we’re ignoring canon here. So, the covert straight up disappears after retreating to the enclave. And we’re skipping or all together doing away with some stuff for this all to work lol  
> The line “…If it is not worth nothing at all, why call it trouble.” Was going to get the edit of “If it is worth nothing at all, why call it trouble.” Then I remembered that mandoa.org (the mando’a dictionary I’ve been using) says that double negatives are common in Mando’a and are used as emphasis on an emphatic disagreement, like saying “Not never.”
> 
> Conversations in Italics are character's speaking in Mando'a, when not a conversation it indicates thoughts or internal conversation

Din Djarin has not been this anxious or more in need of guidance than right now. The events of the last few weeks have been nothing short of exhausting. It was supposed to be simple; he should have known such a tempting prize like a camtono of beskar ingots was going to be trouble.

 _Worthy trouble._ He can nearly hear his buir saying; _If it’s not worth your trouble, it is worth nothing at all. If it is not worth nothing at all, why call it trouble._ Din looks back over his right shoulder, the little one is happily chewing on the ball that is really a part of the Razor Crest. The same ship that carried him to safety with his buir many years ago, the same one they’d used together when he was bounty hunting with his father. His father’s ship, in terms of its recent users. It’s really the covert’s ship, but clan Djarin has been making use of it for two generations now.

He’d hoped that he could escape cleanly with the child, that if enough distance and time was put in, they would give up. Although the child was supposed to be fifty years old, IG-11 thought it was from a long-lived species. If this was true and the child was older than he was now, it had already been alive for approximately half his own life. He was to be twenty-six himself in just a week. Exactly how long had they been looking for him? Had they been looking for him for nearly fifty years? If so, they were dedicated enough to hunt him down for many years to come. They couldn’t keep running forever, there had to be somewhere no one would find them. _Him, find him._

Sorgan had been perfect. A little village in the middle of nowhere made safe after he and Cara took care of the Klatoonian raiders. Omera and her _ad_ Winta had been a perfect family for the kid. She could provide the child with a life free from being hunted and surrounded by other children. But that reality was gone with the sound of shot. There had been no hope for the other Omega to take the child then and keep him safe. Din would not have been able to forgive himself if she, Winta and the other villagers had been slaughtered by bounty hunters or the Imps. If the child had been killed to make delivery easier or in an Imperial invasion.

He turned back to his ship’s controls, seeking another planet to try. It was disheartening enough to know he’d revealed the covert below Nevarro. Shamed him to think any of them may have died so they could run, that the other _ade_ were in danger. The very same children his work supported. If even one was lost…

The soft alert of an incoming message sounds off at his left, disrupting his work momentarily. Flipping the switch quickly so he can hear the message and continue. As the holo projection kicks on with a high tone the figure of his clans Matriarch appears. Immediately the message has his full attention.

_“Din Djarin. You and the child are expected at the location I have sent you. This line is secure, but you will delete this message regardless.”_

It closes after that, followed only by the _ping_ of a location.

Her voice is a soothing reminder of his childhood, as it is for all in the covert. Though her words are to the point, her personal pacing and emphasis have always provided a sense of peace and calm. Her voice is as steadfast as her actions, reliable in her wisdom. Even when she has nothing to say. Her silence is just as compelling. The Armorer’s very presence is a silent force that pulls you in, her quiet authority is nearly deific. She is the epitome of what any Mandalorian Omega strives for, she is at once Mother and Father. Never separate, only whole. Connected and respected, powerful and caring. She was Unattainable.

That’s what his buir called her. _Unattainable_. She earned that title seven years in a row. To all the Alphas and Omegas in the clan, she was as near to a God. Those who earn the title of Unattainable do not have to keep earning it, to have earned it once is an incredible feat and an honorable one. Buir said she earned her first Unattainable in her first Trial at twenty-six years old. For the next six years she continued to amaze the clans at a time when they had yet to truly split, as they were now. Many Alphas from other clans took the opportunity to hunt her in the subsequent six years, and all failed. She remained unmated, undefeated in heat/rut combat and, in the last three years before she ceased attending; she remained _Unfound_. Another worthy title for an Omega. To be Unfound was a title awarded to Omega’s during The Trials who could not be found even from a distance, their pursuer’s completely unable to track them. She had been like a phantom, whose presence was known but never seen. No one ever came close.

It was in that seventh year she proclaimed she would not attend another Trial, and the clans accepted it. She had more than earned the right to retire from attendance. Within their clan one had to attend no less than two Trials in their lifetime, before choosing to claim unmated status. To achieve seven years as an Unattainable was mythic, she was no doubt still spoken of outside their own clan. She was still a figure of great awe to Din even now.

In their clan one with unmated status after attending two trials was not expected to give up the possibility of a mate and children. It was merely a chance to live one’s life free of obligation to provide children whether by Foundling status or birth. It did not doom one to be a clan of one. It had not for his buir. Tharr Djarin had attended two trials since his coming of age, he mated in both with Omega’s who shared in his commitment to not produce a child. A mating did not mean a marriage and mating bond either. Many attendees often enjoyed The Trials as a chance to hunt game that was far superior. It was a chance to bed a partner who was worthy. It was a true lust for life, the hunt provided a great thrill and every opportunity to show case one’s skills and suitability as a potential mate.

Mating’s and marriage bonds did occur though, not frequently but they happened. Most common (but not often) was for an Alpha and Omega to choose to produce a child, so that strong genetics could be passed down. Neither parent bonded to each other, they were not family. The child was the only tie between their blood. This allowed partners who were suitable for mating to create a child but were not suitable to one another in terms of personality for a bond. No commitment necessary. Either parent could go on to bond with another mate and produce children with them or take in Foundling’s. The parents were obligated to their biological child, not each other, nor the other’s Foundlings. The child knew their parents face, but outside the mating that produced the child, the partners didn’t know each other’s.

But none of this keeps any Mandalorian from taking in a Foundling as his buir had. As he so often found himself thinking of doing. One did not have to be of Trial age to take in a Foundling, only an adult. Very rarely did a clans Matriarch or Patriarch disavow the right of buir, it only ever occurred when the buir was too young or was not worthy of the name.

As for Foundling’s they took on the buir’s name, the name of the one who found them. Even if their buir mated the surname did not change. Mating with someone did not give the other partner the rights to their partner’s _ad._ They could come together as a true family under one hut and raise up a family, but the Foundling’s were forever the duty of their true buir. This kept the rare possibility of divorce from destroying a Foundling’s sense of identity with their buir. This dynamic only shifted if a Foundling’s buir died before the little one was old enough to take the vow or set out on their own. The buir’s mate would then recite the vows taking over the responsibility of the Foundling on their mate’s behalf, this was the only time a Foundling’s name changed again. Older Foundling’s who were still young enough to be adopted by their buir’s mate could opt to keep their buir’s name instead of changing it. This most often occurred if the buir had no other child to carry on their name. It was honorable to carry on one’s buir’s legacy.

Had his own buir chose to bond with a mate and had died while he’d been young, he still would not have taken another name. He was a Djarin and as a Djarin he intended to die.

A soft coo interrupts his quiet introspection, turning around again he find the child is climbing out of his pram.

“None of that,” he stands and scoops the little one up before he touches the ground, “we’ll be on our way as soon as I get the coordinates plugged in. Then we can eat.”

A disgruntled mewl sounds from the child as he carefully places him back into the pram, he retrieves the ball but it holds no interest for the child at the moment.

“Alright, I’m gonna borrow this for a bit if you don’t mind.”

Big ears perk and swivel as the little one listens to him but there’s no response. No indication he understands. Din turns back around and screws the ball back into place and plugs in the coordinates.

It’s about a four days journey from their current location, thankfully a recent port stop has them newly refreshed on food, water, fuel and ammunition. They won’t have to make any stops and he’ll have just enough credits to pay for any docking fees. And the planet is further than they’ve been yet, it could mean an extended safety for he and the little one. They may not have to flee too soon.

Or so he hopes.

When everything is set the Razor’s Crest enters hyperspace and for the moment they’ll be free to entertain themselves with food.

**҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉**

Information on this new planet brings back many memories from his childhood. The planet is a combination of jungle and swamp, its population is moderate and sparse. The largest town is not much bigger than the one he remembers from his childhood, though the memories are hazy on those specifics. Different materials and style of building, the inhabitants seem to favor a mix modern and sustainability. It’s communities and villages spread a fair distance apart, some inhabitants seem content to live alone or in small families even further out. Neighbors don’t appear to be a problem. And in that capacity, it reminds him of his first months with the covert, hidden away in a dense jungle without prying eyes.

As the Razor’s Crest makes its approach to enter the atmosphere, he begins scanning for areas to hide the ship. The coordinates he was given seem to lead to an underground hollow or cave perhaps. It’s difficult to get a good reading, the closer they approach the planets atmosphere the more jumbled the reading becomes. He can’t imagine he’d be given direct coordinates, no matter how secure the line. The covert wouldn’t take such a chance, the Matriarch least of all.

“Nearly there now, _ad’ika._ ”

He turns back to find the child sitting peaceably in his pram, seemingly taking in their next stop with curiosity. A questioning coo and perking ears.

“We’ll be safe here for a time.” He disengages the auto pilot sequence so he can have full control of their descent. “You didn’t get a chance to meet the clan, but they saved us both back on Nevarro.”

Din doesn’t think the child remembers but he’s found himself talking to the little one more frequently, sometimes narrating his actions with Mando’a sprinkled in.

The expected jump and rocking of the Razor’s Crest entering the atmo refocuses his attention, holding the ship steady as they penetrate through into the hazy sky below. The tops of thick, vine like trees with muted purple canopies and the vague shapes of mountains(?) and flying creatures are their only witnesses.

At least no one will be able to say they saw the Crest’s entry or it’s general location. And that is of immense comfort as they make a slow pass to their destination, he takes care not to buzz the fauna below. No sense alerting any wandering inhabitants who may become curious.

As they make their approach on the coordinates, Din becomes more aware that the instrument panel is giving him inaccurate or incorrect readings all together. And what little seems accurate on perusal of the outside, what can be seen through the fog, is jumping and flickering on screen. Too wary to keep focus on the panel he readjusts and quickly goes back through everything from their approach to his approximate coordinates. He’ll have to navigate through dead reckoning now.

He pulls back on the throttle, slowing them down into a slow circle of where he estimates his given coordinates are. As he makes a slow pass around the canopy, dropping just enough to hopefully see the ground, making tighter circles as he passes. A shadow and light seem to appear from the fog, like a specter slowly appearing.

Leveling out he’s met with one of his clan, a little hard to tell who it might be exactly, but he thinks it may be Vraax.

The Alpha confirms his identity upon recognizing the Crest by moving close to the cabin’s windshield. He motions Din to follow him, making gestures to help him navigate into the correct position. Then he motions for Din to begin a controlled descent, keeping pace with them as they pass the view of the canopies and drop into the fog.

As they descend, he realizes that the fog is more like a layered fog, the haze he had seen at entry was greatly misleading. It passes into a thick density that has Vraax having to move in close and place his hand on the windshield just so he can see him. As their descent continues the dense fog seems to begin to fade into a thick mist, then a light mist. Until they finally drop down into a clear field of vision, where the gaping mouth of the underground cave is revealed. It is about the length of four of the Crest wing to wing, and the edges of the opening is covered by thick hanging, smoke blue vines, stretching from the caves maw and spreading outward to the surrounding foliage. The cave itself seems to be a wet, rust colored rock that bleeds into the darkness waiting below.

Vraax motions him to continue their controlled descent into the maw, where light does not seem to exist. He’s positioned them carefully, so long as Din holds steady, he won’t need to correct for obstructions. Vraax himself drops into the darkness below, the only light coming from his helmet.

As they sink into the inky black, Din turns the low exterior landing lights on, and they provide more than enough light. The inquisitive warble of his ward is the only sound aside from the Crest’s engines.

“Not long now, _adiik._ We’ll be home soon, and then we can both relax.”

He can hear the soft _thump_ that is the child landing on the floor below, having climbed from his pram. Feeling his little claws clasp his leg, he quickly scoops him up one handed onto the panel in front of him. No doubt curious of their new environment. Little hands press flat to the windshield and his ears wiggle as his head slips side to side, watching the darkness pass with only the wet sheen of rock work to break it up.

A little shriek tells him that the little one has spied Vraax too, hovering steadily in wait for them. Coming level to him Vraax lifts his arms to chest height and gestures for Din to move in his direction. Following Vraax forward leads to another cave opening.

_Probably well out of sight of the opening above. Even Imperial depth scanners would have a hard time picking it up._

The cave mouth is a fair bit wider than the opening on the surface, and their entrance shows that his clan has not only docked their remaining ship within but that they had also liberated at least two other ships in their flight from Nevarro. He can’t make out either but the third furthest from him seems smaller than even the Razor’s Crest. But he slips the Crest into a spot next to the Light Hammer, the ship as old as the Crest and serves as the clans’ main method of transport when they have to uproot themselves.

He’s vaguely aware of Vraax passing them by to land below, Din turns his focus on shutting down the Crest. When he’s done he gathers the child and descends the ladder, signaling the pram to follow. He turns his attention to gathering up his and the little one’s supplies for when they temporarily leave the ship. Bedding, change of clothes for himself and the little one he’d picked up a few ports back, the ball he’d screwed off before leaving the cabin, his armor and weapons kits to clean his gear and anything else he thinks might be necessary. Nothing that might over burden him or get in the way of a necessary escape.

And before he knows it he’s waiting for the rear bay to open fully, having settled the child in his pram again. Vraax is waiting for them a few paces back from the ramp, as Din descends with pram in tow, the hydraulics glide into their interior position.

_“Good that you’re alive.”_

_“I am in the clans debt.”_

_“Nonsense, it the way to help our own and a Foundling.”_ This is said as he nods towards the child.

_“Such a tiny thing caused so much trouble?”_

_“He’s… important to the Imps. I don’t fully know what they wanted him for, but it is nothing good. **Demagolka**_ _.”_

Vraax growls with displeasure hearing this, “ _Hut’uun.”_

Din can only nod in agreement.

“This way, the clan is further within.” Vraax says turning sideways, an invitation to walk shoulder to shoulder. “You and the little one won’t have to worry, you’re safe here. But the Matriarch will tell you all of this.”

They travel through a veritable maze of twisting tunnels, that Din would have a heck of a time navigating were it not for Vraax. The Alpha provides him with navigational tidbits to find his way back to the makeshift docks, pointing out natural landmarks or mineral veining.

When they step into a particular tunnel that slopes gradually downward they walk out onto an open plateau, that over looks an expanse that nearly takes Din’s breath away.

The massive cavern they have entered from the tunnels is incredible. It is high enough that the Razor’s Crest and the other ships could have flown about within it without having to carefully maneuver about each other. It’s as wide as the town of Nevarro, perhaps wider. He can see only so much of the expanse. But the truly incredible part is the… _sky._

That’s all he can think to call it. It looks like a massive sheet of glass covers the whole expanse, it seems to stretch endlessly. But the incredible thing is the moving life forms above it, gliding about like shadows. Light bleeds through the _glass_ ceiling and it’s only the shifting of the light that makes him realize it’s water he is seeing. Not sky.

“This planet has many intriguing things to offer. We have not had a settlement this perfect since I was a child. The light from above is absorbed by the fauna within this place and it in turns creates a light source that is bounced back off the ceiling. We don’t yet understand all the mechanics behind it, but it creates light, warmth and fresh water. The soil is incredibly fertile as well and the surface provides ample hunting grounds.”

“It’s… amazing.”

“It is. The plains are stable enough for us to create more permanent structures and the creatures that live down here are of no consequence. The largest predator is smaller than even your little one and we’ve only observed it to feed on insects and a leaf like creature that glows. This way, we’ll need to take a bit of downward route to get below.”

The route twists them inside and out of the tunnels, like a spiral staircase as the elevation drops along the path. When they finally enter the plains, Din finds the ground dense and plush. The ground itself is definitely stable and the fauna of greyish grass is thick and only as high as his ankle. The child’s pram smoothly glides along as they precede towards the huts and the sounds of clan life.

Distantly, he can hear the steady pounding of a working forge.

Many members of the clan are already standing about waiting for them as they walk down the line of huts. The children have even settled, mostly. One of the clan Omegas, Sakka Krol has stepped into the hut centered at the head of the row, stepping back out with Paz Vizla and the Matriarch.

At some point Vraax has ceased to lead them and has split off to stand to the side with the other gathering members. Din and the child stand before the Armorer and he slowly sinks to kneeling. The child is casting his gaze about in every conceivable direction, the shifting shapes above hold his attention most.

_“Still alive, then.”_

_“Yes, Matriarch.”_

_“Our efforts were not in vain.”_

It is his fault they were forced to flee Nevarro. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it had been well concealed. Until he messed it up.

_“But all things pass, it is the way. And new troubles bring new horizons. Step inside with the child, Din Djarin.”_

She turns away to her forge and that is all that the clan will hear for now. It is up to her to decide where this will go, but none have reason to doubt that she’d send them away. She would not have called Din to their location if she intended to do that. Din rises and the pram follows them inside. And the clan disperses to their own machinations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually intended this chapter to be a great deal longer, but the next scene is a good segue into the next chapter. So I've rearranged it.
> 
> Demagolka - refers to a Mando scientist of the Old Republic by the name Demagol, he experimented on children and is seen as a figure of hate and dread. The word refers to someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster.
> 
> hut'uun - coward, couldn't find a plural for it and didn't have the time to figure it out
> 
> Navigation is accomplished through ideas known as dead reckoning and pilotage. Pilotage is a term that refers to the sole use of visual ground references. The pilot identifies landmarks, such as rivers, towns, airports, and buildings and navigates among them.  
> Dead Reckoning - the process of calculating one's position, most notably at sea, by estimating the direction and distance traveled rather than by using landmarks, astronomical observations, or electronic navigation methods.
> 
> The glass ceiling of the cavern isn't actual glass, it's just see-through  
> For the canopies purple foliage I was thinking of what some people call a smoke-bush, it's a bush that has greyish (smokey) purple leaves, typically rounded in shape.


	5. Liturgy Before the Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liturgy: a public form of worship; ritual
> 
> You said you liked world building lol Nah, I tried to keep it lightish.

_‘Show me the one whose safety deemed we reveal ourselves.”_

_“This is the one.”_

Din brings the pram around to his front and the Matriarch steps close to look within. The little one coos up at her, his ears lifting in his own study of her features.

_“This is the one you hunted, then saved?”_

_“Yes, the one that saved me as well.”_

_“From the mudhorn.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“It looks helpless.”_ Her gilded helm tips slightly to her side as the baby gurgles back.

_“Its species can move objects with its mind.”_

_“I know of such things. The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great, and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.”_

_“It is an enemy?”_ Din’s heart feels like it’ll pound out of his chest and through his beskar, after everything this child can’t be an enemy…

_“No. Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not.”_

_“What is it? What is he?”_

_“It is a Foundling. One in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the way.”_

The baby coos and turns himself to look at Din. And his chest swells with, he’s not sure what.

_“You are nearly of an age for The Trials, are you not? Or am I mistaken?”_

_“No, no mistake. In three days, I will have lived to my twenty-sixth year.”_

_“Good. Then there will be time to prepare, and we are in a good locale. It is unlikely the child will be found here.”_

_“I noticed the Razor’s Crest was displaying faulty read outs. Is this what you mean?”_

_“Yes, and no. This planet seems to be very good at shielding itself from technological probing. What is known of it on the galactic registry is minimal and mostly observational. The atmosphere can only be probed from afar, and such readings are inconsistent at best. Dropping to the planets surface is equally unenlightening. Both the Light Hammer and our newest acquisitions generously provided by the bounty hunters of Nevarro and the New Republic show that even the latest technology is unreliable.”_

_“But there are tracking fobs that can lead them to the child.”_

_“Yes, that is a concern. If the fobs we liberated from some slain hunters had not ceased working properly.”_

_“What?”_

_“The fobs might show a reading within this sector, but there are over twelve planets and several habitable moons within range of this one. The signal could be from any of them. But entry to this planet seems to confuse the two fobs, they act as if nothing is even here. Ship and depth charge radar are worse. The radar shows nothing of interest and the charges seem to be confused by the minerals the natural rock formations are made of. When probing this cave, it came back to us as nothing deeper than an impact crater. We had intended it to be a place to hide the ships while we explored, dropping below the canopy revealed the truth of what we found.”_

_“So, this place… unless the Imps or the bounty hunters search inch by inch… They won’t find him.”_

_“It is unlikely. Great caution must be exercised.”_

Here the baby whines trying to get Din’s attention.

_“I understand.”_

_“You have something to say, speak it.”_

_“You said I am as his father. I have yet to take the vows, I have not spoken the words.”_

_“Do you not wish to?”_

_“No, I… I want to speak them. But a child like this one, how do I even begin to-“_

_“All first-time parents must navigate the unknown. Your child is not so different. Discipline and respect, I suspect will be key. And you had a good role model, look to your memories Din Djarin. The rest will come, or it won’t. All parents make mistakes. And you are not alone.”_

_“Yes, Matriarch.”_

_“Good, there is much preparation to be done for The Trials. We have not been able to properly celebrate one in many years. I suspect a fair number of prospective warriors will be joining this year. You will announce your vow at the end of your Trial before the clan. Two such events should be celebrated together, and all your actions will be taken into consideration.”_

She turns away to her forge, and Din knows she may be speaking of his signet.

_“You are dismissed. Someone will take you to your hut.”_

_“Thank you.”_

Gathering his gear and the little one’s pram following after, they move to the entrance as hammering fills the forge once more. Stepping out he expects either Paz, Sakka or Vraax to be waiting.

“I hear you have been making trouble your new name.”

He _knows_ that voice. Deep and warm, it stirs within him a feeling he’s not sure he’ll ever grow out of. The man is to his left, standing with perfect battle readiness in blue armor.

_“Buir?”_

_“Is that a question? Have you left your memories alongside your brain back on the Crest?”_

They stand apart, staring into the others helms for a few seconds. It seems an eternity. Almost as long as his father’s been gone, and yet no time at all. Din quickly steps into the other’s space and Tharr grasps him by the elbows, both squeezing tightly.

_“Let’s go back to my hut, it’s where you’re both staying.”_

The child gives a grumpy shriek, he’s been ignored by his buir for too long now. He can’t be bothered to remain peaceable if he must stay in his pram much longer.

Both Mandalorian’s turn to him and Tharr chuckles.

“Well, we can’t have you being so upset now can we, _bu’ad?_ ”

The little one stares at him, little head tilted and big ears flexing.

**҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉**

They step into Tharr’s sizeable domed hut, the outside is in a state of being surfaced with local fauna, it appears to be mostly done with exception to the topmost of the dome. Its interior is also in a state of progress, he can’t recall a time where the _vheh’yaime_ have looked so elaborate. What he remembers from his childhood is hastily constructed huts that last no longer than their stays. Small things, barely enough clearance for the adults to move and eating had been a communal affair. The tunnels beneath Nevarro had been the sturdiest structure he can recall.

“It’s not much now, but soon it’ll be right. We haven’t started any tunnels yet, most of our efforts are on setting up a proper clan home. But we’re still so few that barracks likely won’t be built in my lifetime. But the families will have proper dwellings now and the unmated without families will reside with the Matriarch.”

“How… I don’t remember any of this.”

“Our constant movement meant you young one’s never had a proper dwelling. This is close to what a true _vheh’yaime_ was like. We’ve added our own style to it, as it were. The home should be sunken, but we’ll have a proper _karyai,_ a small kitchen, rooms for ourselves and a space to bathe and clean our gear. An armory and maybe room for our own infirmary. The main clan home will have this and a bit more, and at a larger scale.”

“So much? Isn’t that, excessive?”

“If things work out here, it’ll be the start of much more. It’s good for you lot to learn the traditional ways of making a home. You have some idea, I taught you to make a much smaller version of this for your nest.”

And that is true, this is a much larger scale of his nests when in heat, the same dome-like structure and making it sunken where one is able.

“Now, are you going to introduce me to my _bu’ad_ or am I expected to ignore his presence?”

Din snickers and picks the child up from his pram, removing his helmet he turns to the child.

“ _Ad’ika_ , this is my _buir._ This is your _Ba’buir.”_

The little one seems at first transfixed by his face more than his words, as he often is when Din removes his helmet. But his _buir’s_ gestures indicate the other covered male. Turning to face him with a gurgle, he watches equally transfixed as Tharr removes his own helmet.

This man is older than _buir,_ his black hair is streaked with grey and his eyes are a deep brown. His _buir_ has lighter brown eyes than this man. But he has kind eyes and a strong face, more rough looking. His complexion is lighter too.

Din steps closer until he’s pressed against his father’s side, Tharr responds by wrapping one arm around his shoulder and the other comes up to cradle the child’s head.

“Hello, little one. I’m your _ba’buir,_ I’m your grandfather.”

The older man gestures first to Din, _“Buir.”_

Next, he touches the child’s chest with the tips of his fingers, _“ad.”_

Then he places his hand on his own chest, _“Ba’buir.”_

The little one looks from one man to the next, raising a tri-clawed hand he points at Din then Tharr and emits a questioning hum.

“That’s right, _ad’ika._ You, me and grandfather are _aliit._ Family.”

Neither man can tell if the child truly understands but his happy squeal and reaching for Tharr is enough. He’ll understand in time. And with time, he may not need to understand. For him it will be as if there had been nothing else before them. He’ll grow up knowing them as his family.

Later that night the small family has wound down from a day of reuniting, or in the child’s case getting to know his grandfather. Tharr is proving to be just as exceptional a grandparent as he had been a father, patient, gentle and firm. His help settles the nerves that Din had been ignoring all this time, the constant state of survival left Din frequently uncertain as to his ability to care for the child. And such a lifestyle wasn’t fair to the little one. But Tharr was quick to relieve Din when it was needed and stepped back to allow Din to be a father without judgement.

Currently the three were settled down around a crate operating as their makeshift dining table. Tharr had made a hearty meal in celebration of their first night under their hut as a family. The meal consisted of a lettuce type vegetable that had been found on the surface, dense bread, lentils with a rice like texture, and the highlight of the meal was a savory beef his father had brought back from his travels that he mixed with his own special blend of spiced sauce. The sauce was rather difficult to come by and Din had not tasted it for a number of years now, even knowing how to make it himself. Many of the ingredients were cultivated on Mandalore, and the others while easier to obtain were not necessarily important to have over buying other food staples for the clan.

It was a recipe his father coveted, and even Din was not taught the recipe until he could be trusted not to ruin it. It was a Djarin family secret, much to the disgruntlement of the clan. But his father brought back many stores of dried herbs and other Mandalorian favorites for the clan, even bringing with him seeds and starter plants so they could attempt to cultivate them here. Din had no doubt that brought a great deal of pleasure for the clan, excitement at the very least. The little starters probably had been difficult to transport without them dying or falling sickly.

But the taste was absolutely worth it. That bright hot burning that lit the senses like a star going nova. The clan referred to the sauce as _white hot_ by name, Tharr just called it his _cry baby_ sauce. Din knew both names to be accurate and honestly believed the sauce could blind a person if it ever got in the eyes.

A mewling whine from the child took his attention, the little one had his hands gripping Din’s right thigh where he sat cross legged facing the table and the front of the hut. His father sat to his left and the little one was seemingly uninterested in his food, which appeared to be untouched in his bowl. Neither man had been certain of the kid’s ability to safely eat the spicy food, so he’d been served just the lentils and veg.

Crawling into his father’s lap by pulling himself up with his hands, the child turned to face Din and moved his hands to lean on his father’s chest, then tipped his head up to look at him.

“Need something womp rat?”

_“mmmm, ah! Ah!”_

“Hungry?”

“ _mmmm~”_ the kid pointedly looks from Din to his hand with the meat in it, smacking his lips a little then opening his mouth expectantly.

Din looks at the display then his father, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, little one.”

The child’s mouth closes and he looks rather cross with Din, thumping back on to his rear in Din’s lap. He then turns and crawls out of his lap and toddles to his grandfather. Once at Tharr’s left leg, he takes hold of it and after making the same exclamations once more opens his mouth and waits.

Both men sit looking at the little one. But before either can say anything to dissuade the child, he grumpily shrieks and bangs one little hand on Tharr’s leg and exclaims _“A! AH!”_

Tharr snickers at the display, “Demanding like your buir. He likes to eat too.”

Din makes some noise of complaint but neither grandfather nor grandchild is paying him any mind.

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you. You may try a small piece, and then we’ll wait.” He turns to Din waiting for his permission or denial.

Din worries his lip a little before nodding.

Tharr turns to the bowl with the meat in it on the table and selects a tiny slice, about the size of one of the kids claws. This he carefully pulls back and slips into the little one’s mouth, careful to avoid dripping any sauce anywhere sensitive.

As he moves to put the piece into his grandson’s mouth the little one is doing a small bounce in anticipation, little _“ah, ah!”_ sounds sounding excitable. Once in his mouth with a happy hum the child slowly chews as father and son return to their own meals waiting for the inevitable fallout.

But nothing happens except that the kid demands more.

“He’s never done anything like this. He usually just eats whatever I give him, mostly he likes his frogs.”

“Well, he can’t eat frogs forever. I don’t think I’ve ever known a sentient species to ever get its nutrients from just one source. Variety is good for a child when it can be had.”

Tharr feeds the little one some bread that he places some lentils and veg on, which appeases the child. When nothing but demands for more that almost results in the kid trying to get at the whole bowl of meat are the only results of this experiment, Tharr begins feeding him bits with more of the sauce on them. It doesn’t seem to be harming the kid at all, he seems very content in fact. Even doing his odd little bounce each time he’s fed the meat.

This little dance amuses both men, Tharr most of all because Din used to be the kind of kid who squirmed and hummed when he was especially pleased with his meals. Still sometimes does, the humming anyway.

The meal is taken at a slow pace as all Mandalorian meals are, giving father and son a chance to talk idly and try to teach more Mando’a to the child. An hour passes in this manner and the kid still shows no signs of being sick from his spicy meal. The only thing he does is eventually wander away from them to explore the front room and any attempts to get him to eat more go ignored. So at least he’s fed and content. Eventually he wanders back and settles into Din’s lap and the talking voices of the adults begins to lull him into sleep. His father’s gentle petting of his head and ears send him fully into dreamland.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

Tharr only looks at Din from the corner of his eye, sopping some bread in the meat sauce and eating it.

“I mean, he’s fifty years old and he’s still just a baby. How long does his kind live? What if… what if I’m dead before he’s even a little more grown? And not just by being killed or anything, but--- What if I become too old to teach him anything? What if he’s similar to an age I was when my parents died? He’ll be older in years but mentally, mentally he’d just be… so little. He might be little for longer than I’m alive. What then?”

Tharr chews some meat thoughtfully, it is a great deal to consider. This little one’s situation is more unique than any other Foundling Tharr can recall.

“I know the clan will protect him. That someone will take over where I leave off. But that’s not enough!”

Surprised by the near shout, Tharr turns to fully face Din.

“He’s got abilities neither me nor anyone else knows how to handle. Or even understands. He probably doesn’t even understand what he’s doing. I don’t think anyway. And what if the Imps come and he still can’t protect himself? What if they come and I’m too old to protect him? Who is gonna-”

Here Din’s breath seems to catch, and he doesn’t look like he wants to say more. But Tharr waits, Din’s always been an introspective child. That hasn’t changed in his adulthood, maybe it’s worse. Worse in that he always over thinks things, worries them until he comes out alright and sees he could handle it.

_“Who is going to protect him like I do?”_

Tharr sighs at this whispered confession, “Son, all parents worry over what you are talking about. We can all hope our children outlive us. Just as I hope you will outlive me. It was something I had to face myself and I can tell you that you’ll never find the answer that satisfies you nor will anything truly satisfy you. Granted this situation is unique, but it isn’t so different from any other parent.”

“But _buir,_ I—he might live for a long time. Longer than any of us knows. Who will bring him up well if I’m not there? What if they just use him for his abilities? How am I to just be satisfied that maybe someone won’t just sell him to the Imps? How am I supposed to be okay with not knowing who my son is going to be raised by if I can’t even live long enough to judge their character?”

“Din,”

“I don’t remember them.”

It falls silent between them as Din turns to look at his son and stroke the curve of his ear.

“I can see their faces, the day we met. I remember everything about that day except what they sounded like. I can’t remember their scents, the sound of their voices. I can’t even remember what they looked like happy or mad. Did they even love each other?”

He looks back at his father and Tharr can see that quiet little boy reflected within, the one with uncertain brown eyes.

“Sometimes I dream of them and they seem happy. Sometimes I think I remember something, but I don’t really know if it’s true or my mind just making things up. Filling in holes with nothing. And I don’t know what bothers me more; not knowing or my mind chasing down phantom ideas that lead nowhere. What if that happens to him? If he lives so long that I am no more than just a phantom passing through his mind, just a small moment there and gone. What if he lives so long, I don’t even become a memory? What if I’m barely a fraction of a moment that means nothing. Like they are to me now. Cause that’s what they are, just two people in a moment that ended before I could even really hold on to it.”

“There are no words, that I can say that will console you. I can’t even give you any real comfort. I can’t tell you the future, how long he’ll live, what he’ll become. I can’t even tell you what your parents sound like, how they smelt or even what they looked like. My own memory of them is of two people who placed their child above their own lives, and I can only remember seeing the backs of them. And their pyre.”

The silence holds for a bit, the soft breaths of the little one and the sounds of the other families going about their own nightly routines are the only signs of time still passing.

“I can tell you that you will make the best of it. I expect nothing less of you; as my son and as a Mandalorian. This is the way. You will do this for the child, for your parents, for me. You will remember what brought you to this moment and know that this is all part of your path. And when the time comes, you will die knowing,” here he stands to kneel behind Din and wraps his arm across his shoulder to pull him back into his chest, leaning down he murmurs, “that you made the most of every available moment with your son. You won’t give him reason to doubt you, to distrust you. You’ll make every moment count so that it lives forever within him. And you with it.”

Din feels his eyes burning and turns to look at his father, _“buir…”_

“Be strong Din. You always have been, so don’t think you’re anything less than that now. All these years of being strong have been lessons leading you to this path. Now it’s time to trust what you’ve learned and pass it on.”

**҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉**

Time passes quickly, filled with learning to build up a proper home with his father and the clan. Plans are being discussed over where and how to plant the herbs and future crops. The Foundlings are eager to meet and play with the newest member of the clan and it’s all Din can do to shoo them off when the little one needs to be fed or take a nap. Tharr is certainly enjoying having a young one around again, he enjoys telling the child stories while he sits with him to tend to daily needs as he once did with Din.

It’s during this that Din’s twenty sixth life day is announced, and with it the final preparations for The Trials comes to an end. Din was the youngest Foundling of his peers, there are those who share the same year of birth and so are the same age, but Din is the youngest of them. It’s his twenty sixth life day they had awaited before any Trials could be had.

The clan is noticeably abuzz with everything that needs to be prepared, the younglings are running about caught up in all the excitement even if they don’t understand a bit of what is happening. The adults have given up trying to properly explain what is going on especially when they seem to think this means a wedding is taking place and only leads to confusion when they are told there is no wedding or bonding or anything of a kind. At least, not right now. Inevitably it falls to the clan Matriarch to gather the children to tell them what is happening and answer their endless questions. The littlest ones still don’t get it, the older one’s barely understood any better. The Matriarch takes this more as a chance to pass on the ideals of earning one’s place as a Mandalorian and so too to become the mate of a Mandalorian. This idea comes across better and the little one’s go away talking among themselves about the many deeds they will perform to become great Mandalorian’s.

Tharr is tasked with creating his white-hot sauce for dipping and many others are also put to good use making food, other’s set about preparing the main hall that was newly finished and still others are set about seeing to various other tasks. As the day wears into evening and everything is in place and the children are napping, the Matraiarch sends everyone back to their huts to make their own preparations. More specifically, those who intend to participate will bathe then prepare their armor. Each family has a manner in which they are represented in The Trials and these customs are adhered to in the privacy of their homes and in front of their families.

In clan Djarin, Din would be attended by his clans Alpha’s in bathing and polishing his armor, the Omegas would see to his weapons and kit, marking them temporarily with words for strength, stamina, honor, aggression and fertility. But clan Djarin only has one Alpha and one Omega, and a baby whose secondary gender is a mystery. Assuming he’ll have a secondary gender, the universe is vast enough that not all species have Alphas and Omegas.

Thankfully Tharr has thought ahead during preparations and when Din returns to their hut where the smell of his father’s sauce is still roiling, he finds his father has taken the time he doesn’t need to babysit the sauce to lay everything out. Everything they need to prepare is set and even a bath in their new sunken bathing room is steaming.

The bathing room was decided upon to be the first test for how well they could work and stabilize the ground for proper homes. It worked out better than anyone could have thought. The ground once mixed with other compounds and allowed to dry becomes almost like a strong plaster. It is easy to smooth but not slippery, the minerals leaving a somewhat gritty texture to the touch and sight. This makes it perfect for the bathing room where slipping is more likely to occur. They had dug themselves a sizable bathing room, carefully determining the layout.

Entering the baths through an arched doorway down two steps carefully molded into its wall leads one into an open space with room for a minimum of four occupants. To the immediate right they have begun, but not finished a setup for double sinks and cabinetry with plenty of storage. A water closet is just beyond that, hidden by a wall that they hope to add a sliding door to. Dina and Tharr have both decided to leave space however unfinished it makes the space look because neither of them knows how tall the little one will become, they may have to customize certain spaces to better fit the child’s needs and independence in the future.

Directly before the entry is another wall with an archway, entering this leads to the actual bath. To that arches left is two sets of showers and one sonic shower, a half wall separates them from a sunken tub big enough for four. Tharr had been rather specific in its construction, communal bathing was common among families and sharing a bath was no different to sharing a table for meals. The tub itself sloped from a shallow platform perfect for sitting or bathing little ones and was no more than five inches deep, it sloped in a careful grade down deep enough for a man like Tharr, who was just over six feet tall to stretch out comfortably and just as wide. Four men of Tharr’s size could stretch out comfortably in either direction and never have to shift around to accommodate any of the others. The tubs shape was rectangular and its inner walls shaped in such a way that no steps or benches were needed for adults to relax on, the walls comfortably fit the natural shape and curve of the spine.

This bath was now steaming with water that had to be brought in to fill it, plumbing was going to be an issue that would be worked out. Hopefully soon. As it was, the sonic shower was the only working shower. The other two and consequently their sinks would follow once plumbing was worked out. But it was the smell that had his attention now. The whole room smelt of mint, sandalwood and other scents he couldn’t entirely place. Undressing, he entered the baths to find Tharr and the little one already waiting for him. The little one was transfixed by the bath and so paid no attention to his arrival.

Drawing near and looking over the half wall he found the bath water was also filled with various plant matter and it seemed like a sheen of oil was on its surface.

“Use the sonic shower first. It’ll rid you of any impurities and dead skin. You need to enter the bath first and be clean when you do. The little one and I have already used the sonic shower ourselves.”

“What’s all the stuff in the tub?”

Din turns to the sonic shower beside him and stands within it.

“I knew your first Trial was coming up and my scouting, as you know, took me near to Mandalore. I was able to get a hold of more than just food spices and plants. Our family has always followed a strict method of bathing before one’s Trials, to enter the Reflection Room with a clean body and a clear mind. These plants promote all of that. The natural softer scents promote a calm mind and relaxed body, the sharper smells promote a clear and focused mind and stimulates the body. You’ll be going through a bit of an ordeal and our clan has always valued accepting the duality of life and so that’s how we prepare.”

The shower finishes its cycle and leaves Din’s skin feeling buzzy and tight. He’s never liked the sonic showers for that reason, he hates the odd feel of it. No matter how clean it makes one. Stepping around the wall and onto the platform, Tharr directs him to step down into the actual tub and relax against the slope in front of the platform. Tharr settles in behind him on the platform itself with the child who he sets down, and the kid is quite happy to splash about for the moment.

Not taking any chance of an occupied child for granted Tharr begins to rub the water and hair oils into his scalp, working down to his face and neck. He massages the oil into every part of Din and even the little one takes part by patting Din’s shoulder in an attempt to copy his ba’buir.

When this is done he’s instructed to soak and Tharr takes the time to occupy himself and the child who does not seem ready to give up the pampering, he keeps scooping water and patting his grandfather’s body and Tharr indulges him by also massaging the oils into his head and the backs of his ears. As the water starts to lose its heat Tharr picks up the kid and wraps him in a towel then himself, Din is instructed to keep soaking until after the water has gone cold. To close up his pores that have been opened from the baths heat. To better retain the smell. Tharr will come for him when he can leave.

Din sits and relaxes for the first time in a long time, it seems. He can hear his buir and ad’ik moving about and changing, talking. It’s all so comforting and lulls his mind. His buir eventually comes for him before the water can turn his body to shivers, and after dressing in the white tunic and pants he is handed he’s lead to his room.

“You’ll stay here until it’s time. Breathing in the smell of the sauce would ruin your nose to all the effort we’ve gone to in bathing you. The three of us will wait here and someone else will be along to collect the sauce. I’ll clean and ready your gear and you will sit and contemplate what you intend to vow for your ceremony.”

This is meant to be a time of quiet for those taking on The Trials. The vow one makes is like a prayer, offered up in the hopes of gaining a mate, a bond, a child or even just a good hunt. To do honorably during The Trials. Each family does this differently, the Djarin clan leans more toward introspection. Looking inwards to find all that they need to perform honorably.

Once more time seems to pass quickly, the little one has been tuckered out from all the day’s events followed by a meal and enjoyable bath. He’s slowly nodding off, tucked up in the warm comfort of a blanket Omera and Winta gave him and watching the two men in his life. It isn’t long before slowly blinking eyes fall and stay shut. Tharr has been making good timing on cleaning Din’s gear and the weapons are already etched with symbols. The sound of someone calling out draws Tharr away momentarily to send whoever it was on their way with the sauce.

“Nearly time.”

Din nods and Tharr hands him a chest that has been sitting to the side.

Surprised, Din takes it and opens it as Tharr returns to his tasks. When Din sees what is within his breath is taken away, looking sharply up at his father.

“Shh, no talking. And you deserve it. Every Djarin has worn it to their first Trial, and so will you.”

Within the chest is a set of silk white robes, the tunic and pants are trimmed in pale silver and carefully stitched mythosaurs with glass beaded eyes. The hood attached is long, intended to cover its wearers face perfectly. A scarlet colored cowl in thick velvet designed to cover the lower half of his face that the hood cannot cover is also within.

There is much he wants to say to his _buir_ in this moment, but he’s not allowed. He only knows that this is just another proof of fact that his father really thinks of him as his own, to give his Foundling such a personal family gift. An heirloom worn by many Djarin’s regardless of gender. Its white symbolizing the start of a new beginning, the red the color of blood and battle. The painstakingly and accurately stitched mythosaurs, the symbols of strength and fate. Worthy prey, worthy warriors. Worthy of Mandalore.

He’s always felt connected to his _buir,_ but this is the first time he’s felt _truly_ connected to their _aliit._ To those of clan Djarin long gone.

Din only becomes aware of the distant sound of a steady drum when his _buir_ shifts and stands. Standing himself, he undresses and begins to put on his family’s robes. His father meanwhile uses the same chest to carefully pack Din’s beskar and the gear he’s permitted to take. His boots are also packed away, he’ll be expected to walk barefoot like the others.

When he turns back, his _buir_ is there to inspect him carefully, critically eyeing the hood and cowl most of all. Once satisfied he sets the pram to follow him and hands the chest to Din.

They follow him through the hut and out the door. The hood is shockingly sheer from his perspective, he can see perfectly in it even though others cannot see him. It’s nearly all he can do not to reach up and make sure his face is truly covered, but his _buir_ would never have let him leave if it hadn’t been. He’s determined not to fidget with it or show signs of discomfort.

All around him others are gathering, only a small few in white. With exception of himself there are three others dressed in white, they stand beside Din at the front of the procession and kneel before their Matriarch. Behind them also stands those who intend to participate but are past the age of twenty-six, and so have already experienced the Trials.

Din can’t tell from scent alone who is an Alpha and how many are participating Omegas. The herbs from his bath are still in effect. The rest of the clan stand back and around the group facing the Matriarch, who stands at the head of the clan. Everyone has taken their time to prepare, polished armor and clean clothing.

_“Tonight, we shall observe the first Trials in a place of security for the first time in many years. It is good that our clan can provide its warrior’s a chance to truly be Mandalorians in all the ways that matter. That you each shall be able to prove your worth in the next two weeks, to prove yourselves as truly Mando’ade.”_

_“This is the way.”_ The clan speaks this with quiet reverence.

_“We shall begin with each participating clan member announcing themselves for the Trials. You will announce your name and what thing of value you will leave behind with the clan.”_

The Matriarch nods to the first on her left in the lineup of white robed figures. They stand and kneel before her after reaching into the chest and drawing out a ceremonial dagger.

_“Waik Pahl, first Trial. I leave behind the dagger of my people, taken with me the day I became a Foundling.”_

_“Alpha Pahl, your dagger is accepted.”_

Waik backs up two steps before returning to his place in line. In this manner, the following white robed figures continue.

_“Llix Sairs, first Trial. I leave behind my clans first signet, passed down since before the Purge.”_

_“Omega Sairs, your clans signet is accepted.”_

_“Jaral Blys, first Trial. I leave behind the sword of my clan, passed down from the days Mythosaurs walked Mandalore.”_

_“Omega Blys, your clans sword is accepted.”_

When Blys has settled back to kneeling on Din’s right, Din finally rises and kneels before the Matriarch.

_“Din Djarin, first Trial. I leave behind the Foundling I will take for my son.”_

_“Omega Djarin, your Foundling is accepted.”_

Following the same steps as those before him, Din steps back twice before turning to kneel back at his position behind his chest. He wants to let out a relieved breath and seek out his buir’s face, but he won’t. At least he didn’t trip or somehow make a fool of himself.

Things progress steadily from there and it all feels like a slow blur to Din as the other’s announce their own participation. In total, only four Omegas are participating and seven Alphas. The odds are neither unequal nor unfavorable to anyone, no battle is ever fair. Din still finds himself a bit worried though, this many Alphas gunning for such a small pool of Omegas is bound to create fierce competition. That makes his job a great deal more difficult. Thankfully he’s accustomed to difficult jobs.

He is wary about Vizla being involved though. They’ve never got on, even at the best of times. Watching the large Alpha kneel and announce his participation leaves Din only wanting the position of Unattainable. He wasn’t sure what he planned to achieve in his first Trials, it’s not often that first time participants achieve much. Mating is the most common achievement, and it is not unheard of for some Mandalorian’s to save their virginity for their first Trials.

Din is only kind of a virgin…In the blow job and hand job category that is. He’s never removed his helmet and barely any of his gear. One partner had tried to penetrate him anally with her fingers during one such tryst and that had been swiftly ended before the female Alpha could get further than the tip of her nail. It wasn’t that he had not been ready or that Mandalorian’s preached chastity, he just had not wanted her that way. He hadn’t sought any partners after that. Time and recent factors put that on hold rather firmly.

Paz passed him on his way back in line with the others, Din isn’t sure where exactly the other man sits but it sends an itch running down his spine to think the other could be seeing yet another opportunity to fight with Din. That thought alone is both tiring and aggravating. Hopefully Paz would either settle in with one of the other Omegas or was just looking for a chance to flex his domineering Alpha bullshit on another Alpha.

_“Now that all who are worthy have been named, we shall remind past participants and new of the rules of engagement. It is dishonorable to kill either an Omega or an Alpha during The Trials. This is a time when we come together to know our clan mates more intimately. The lust of combat and mating is often thrilling and can lead to poor decisions. Do not allow yourselves to run wild with your primal instincts, it is upon you alone to control your actions. Eons past have taught us that sometimes we cannot trust that instinct won’t win out. For this reason, lethal weapons are not permitted during The Trials. All participants will be given a hunting knife and only what gear you may need. Non-lethal weapons are allowed however, but the creation of weapons to kill another of our clan is not. You may however use such weapons to survive. Non-lethals may include rope, jet packs, grappling tools and other blunt weapons.”_

Everyone sits in silence as she speaks, they all know this. But it is good to remind everyone and for the little one’s to hear.

_“It goes without saying that rape is unacceptable. Alpha’s shall remember that even though Omegas are participating in the Trials, it is not an open invitation for future unsolicited contact. Forced bonds are also dishonorable. The Omega makes the final decision on if they will welcome any future courting outside The Trials. If the answer is no, you are expected to accept this decision with dignity. Or be judged for your lack of honor. This goes for Omegas as well. Not all who participate are looking for bonds, all involved in The Trials accept this by leaving behind something of value. This will be your acknowledgement that you understand these rules. Is there any who wishes to back out?”_

No movement and no voices.

_“The final rules. All who participate are acknowledging that The Trials are open to all who wish to join the hunt. Alpha combatants will break off when a clear winner is determined if two or more Alphas find an Omega. The winning Alpha earns the right to take on the Omega in Heat-Rut combat. The winner of this battle will determine the course of action taken. An Alpha may choose to mate and offer up a bond, only the bond can be denied. The Alpha may also choose to simply take an article or object from the Omega as proof of their win, along with the Omegas word as the winner of their combat, mating is not necessary. And the Alpha may choose to seek out other combatants or return to the clan. If the winner is the Omega they may also choose to mate and may offer a bond. They also have the right to send the Alpha away to allow other Alphas the chance to combat them. If this occurs, the Alpha acknowledges the others right not to mate just as the Omega acknowledges that an Alpha may not choose to mate. And finally, if an Alpha and Omega have paired for mating, they can still be challenged if the nest is found. The challenger must announce themselves so that all may be properly covered. No one is permitted to see another’s face accept where a mating is occurring. In this moment you are as family. If the challenger is an Alpha and wins against the defending Alpha, they gain the right to combat the defending Omega. Again, the winner decides the next course of action. If the challenger wins over both defenders the losing Alpha will return to the clan, no further combat is allowed. The challenger is then required to take over the mating duties until the Trials have ended or another challenger defeats them. If the Omega wins, they may choose to keep their previous Alpha or mate with the challenger. If the challenger is sent away, they forfeit the right to continue and will return to the clan.”_

_“Those of you who still accept these conditions,”_ she steps aside and gestures to the doorway of the Clan Home. _“may enter. Omegas will remove themselves to the Reflection Room and Alphas shall remain here.”_

Din stands along with the few other Omegas he’ll be entering with, carrying their chests before them. They enter single file into the clan home and follow the path to the very back. This chamber holds the Reflection Room, a place of solitude. Where they spend the next few hours preparing and reflecting on the trials to come. The Matriarch will attend and observe them until the time comes.

They line up two on each side of the room, facing one another. They lower the chests to sit a few feet before them, leaving an aisle for the Matriarch to walk about. Settling down on the ground, they sit silently for a time as the Matriarch can barely be heard still observing the rituals outside for both the Alphas and the clan.

“This is your second trial isn’t it Xil?”

Xil Spyn is the only female Omega joining The Trials this year and at twenty-seven she has already observed them once. She is the only Omega not in white, she wears a simple tunic with her helmet on.

“It is. Not anywhere near as fancy as you lot are getting.”

Everyone chuckles and nods. Previous Trials had been difficult to do, they only occurred when members were reaching the age of twenty-six. Otherwise mating’s took place any time a pair wanted to be intimate or create a bond. The Trials had not occurred often, the eldest members were in their fifties and the youngest adult was a female Alpha named Zel Aran, who was too young for her Trials at age twenty. Xil had been one of three in her age group for their first Trials. The other two were Omega Lissi Braisitt who mated and bonded with thirty-nine year old Alpha Krel Buwr during that Trial, and female Alpha Khamrah Aivhel who was participating in this trial.

Before them had been another Trial for female Alphas Thi Crart who had no plans to mate and was currently raising a Foundling and Vha Cryrn who was training to become a medic and also had no immediate plans to mate. There had been others but the age groups within the clan were largely scattered and made ceremonial Trials difficult to accomplish.

Nevarro had not been an ideal place for The Trials. Their situation made any more than one of them seen above ground as dangerous. Being twenty-three at the time of Xil’s Trials had allowed Din to be away on a bounty hunting mission, he had not returned until four weeks after they had ended. He hadn’t heard much at the time, only that Lissi and Krel had mated. That ultimately didn’t matter to Din over much, he didn’t have a habit of being in the know of the clan’s personal lives. Beyond what he needed to. He was an introvert at the best of times. A loner at his worst.

“I suppose we have more than just locale to blame for so many Alpha’s joining this year. I believe only three Alphas participated on Nevarro, right?”

Llix Sairs seems to be talkative today, and this is his second question so far. Xil turns to him at her left, she’s sitting across from Din.

“Yes, just the three. It was already precarious to go above and perform The Trials as it was.”

Jaral Blys turns to Din then with a snort, “We definitely have you to blame then.”

Taken aback by the accusation Din sits a little stiffer, “How do you mean?”

Jaral hums as Xil speaks up, beating Llix to the punch. “They mean that your recent actions have caused the covert to move to this planet, leading to the first Trials that is safe for more participants. Your actions have also caught the eyes of many of the Alphas.”

Din sits quietly but inside his head is spinning. “I’m not sure I follow…”

Llix laughs a bit mockingly, “Din honestly. You blew up and wrecked Nevarro by stealing back a Foundling! Many a Foundling has been brought before the clans in many ways, yours is the first I’ve ever heard of causing such chaos.”

Trying not to fidget from his anxiety and the thought that the Alphas may in fact be coming for him with a vendetta, he quietly murmurs, “I didn’t intend for the clan to be revealed. I didn’t think anyone would-”

“Come to your aid?” Jaral leans closer to him, “You have always been so apart from us, Din. Your… loner tendencies have you made you blind to your clan.” Din feels like he wants to curl up and die, he knew he was drifting but this is the first he’s heard it from a clan member.

“It’s not your fault.” Jaral continues, “We should have insisted on your behalf that you remain underground with us longer, rather than allow you to go and support the clan with bounty hunting. But needs must, and we were uncertain that you would thrive underground.”

Xil speaks up and leans on her arms upon her chest, “The Alphas have noticed you more lately. Before you were just a kid running about on the surface, doing your part. But when you came back with a whole _camtono_ of _beskar,_ well it certainly drew attention.”

The other’s snicker and all Din can think of is Paz and his words that day. “No one seemed that impressed. You must’ve seen something different that day.”

Llix laughs loudly, “Stars Din, how do you succeed as _beroya_ being so blind?”

“What Llix is trying to say,” Xil continues “is that everyone noticed. But the Alphas especially. More so when you went and saved the _ad’ika._ Alphas notice that kinda thing, and it gave us all something to hunt for a small time while we covered your escape. The fight was invigorating, the Alphas were singing your name for some time. And after, well they talk about you.”

Llix nods rapidly, “Very _highly_ of you. When one of them remembered your first Trials was this same year, it’s all they’ve been talking about. They want to prove themselves to you. I don’t know how many want to offer you their bond but they definitely want to win your heat.”

_“Me’ven?”_ Din honestly can’t believe that, he hadn’t seen anything from the Alphas that suggested anything of the kind. They had not shown him any interest at all.

“You lot are teasing me.”

“No, _ori’haat_.” Llix sounds insistent as Jaral and Xil nod.

Jaral seems ready to say more but is interrupted by the appearance of the Matriarch. She enters silently and is pushing a floating cart before her. She pushes it aside and turns to stand at the head of the aisle, she waits as they all quickly adjust themselves onto their knees and sit upright.

“From this moment forward you will maintain your silence.” She steps forward and begins to pull at strings that Din is only now noticing, a set of blinds falls covering Jaral from his sight.

“You may remove your coverings when your blind is set up,” she steps towards Llix and pulls another string, the blinds that fall cover three sides of the Omega. Two on the sides fall straight to the ground and the third falls to mere inches from the top of the chests they’ve brought.

“Food will be passed to you and you will sit in reflection until I call for you to rest. Afterwards, you will be released above ground ahead of the Alphas.” She moves to Din and the blinds fall with a _whirr_ and he sees her legs cross to Xil followed by the blinds falling.

“You will be given a six hour head start before dawn. Before that you will observe a pre-dawn ceremony for bathing and your last reflection. This will all be done in silence.”

No one says anything and the soft tread of the Matriarch is all they hear until she begins pushing the cart down the aisle, stopping to pick up a tray and pass it underneath the minimal gap of the front blind. Din waits until the Matriarch’s tread has left the room and then he pulls his cowl down. Breathing the air for the first time since leaving his room in his father’s hut.

He can smell the food they’ve been given, and he can barely smell the other Omegas. They are also removing their coverings and the sound of them readjusting to comfortable eating positions and the scrape of utensils is all he hears now. Carefully pulling down his hood and pushing his sleeves up he finds a sizable napkin folded up that he places carefully on his lap and adjusts his sleeves, so he doesn’t get dirty.

As he eats, he tries not to think too much on what the other’s have said. Their full of it, no one has shown even the slightest sign they think anything more of Din than they had before.

**҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉**

Din can’t honestly tell how much time has passed; he has a good idea but he’s not certain. The only sounds he’s heard has been the very quiet shifting of his fellow Omegas and the occasional passage of the Matriarch coming in to check on them.

Currently he’s pressed himself to the back wall with his feet laid out in front of him and trying to rest, he and the others had been instructed to sleep many hours before and he’s only just woken up. He can’t be certain the others are awake, but they may be. He’s been sitting with his eyes closed for some time now, and he’s been letting his mind drift. Not wanting unwanted thoughts about a horde of Alphas getting in the way of his plans.

_The canopies are too obvious, the Alphas will likely go looking there since one can hide their scent in the mist above the ground. They’ll search there for clues, for signs of someone being there._

_Could maybe use them a bit to lose my scent and then go to the ground. But that’ll take too long, scaling the trees and moving from one to another. Too much time to be wasted, wouldn’t get as far._

_The ground means being tracked by scent is easier, but movement will be quicker. Cover more ground away from the Alphas. More time to scout and plan out a place to nest down, allowing for more time to cover up and stay hidden. Harder to find._

_But where? Haven’t had time to go above and scout the terrain for myself. Don’t even know the elevation of the surface._

“Cover yourselves.”

Startled from his thoughts he bolts upright and swiftly pulls his cowl and hood on, the sounds of the others doing the same can be heard. He moves back to his kneeling position and thinks maybe the others have too.

“I will lead you to the baths one by one, you will be brought back here to dress in your armor.”

One by one they do as she says, when Din is called on he finds himself to be the last. The others are dressing behind the blinds into their armor. When he is brought to the baths he finds his bathing supplies laid out for himself and quickly sets about brushing away any dead skin and scrubbing himself. The supplies are intended to make their scents clearer for the pursuing Alphas.

Once fully cleansed he dresses in his robes and is returned by the Matriarch to his place behind the blind. The other blinds are still down, and all is silent as he passes into the cover of his place. Dressing quickly and carefully folding his clan’s robes to be placed within the chest. He sits with his boots on and apparently Tharr had also cleaned and polished these.

“I am placing your tea down, drink all of it.” The Matriarch’s presence passes by as she sets bowls down on the chests. “It will spur on your heat and heighten your natural scent. It will be in full affect by the time the Alphas are released six hours from now.”

The quiet scrape of bowls being picked up and Din carefully gulps down his own. It is a spicy mixture with a hint of sweetness, were it not for its intended purpose it would be a well-liked tea for any Mandalorian. It is almost refreshing on the palate.

“Place your helmets back on, I will lift the blinds.”

It takes no time for this to occur and she gestures for them to rise and follow her.

They slip silently into the halls of the Clan Home and make their way to a hidden entrance at the back of the forge, it leads them out on to the plains behind the settlement. Following in single file they make their way through a part of the plains into tunnels that Din has not yet seen. It is not the direction Vraax took him down when he’d first arrived.

They reach the surface in ten minutes and the strange forest is dark and dense around them.

“You have a six hour head start on the Alphas. It is not wise to go further than what has been scouted,” here she hands them maps. _Actual paper_ _maps._ “These maps have approximately six hours worth of scouting terrain on them, they are not complete. They are only what you need to find your way back to us. Go, may victory lead you.”

They all bow deeply at the waist, “Thank you, Matriarch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bu'ad - grandchild  
> vheh'yaim - traditional Mandalorian dwelling, sunken floors and and dome shaped. Sizes varied and reminds me of my own tribe's structures called Long Houses. "Clan Home" is based around the settlement of Clan Awaud, which you can find on Wookieepedia if you want a visual idea.  
> karyai - common room, living room  
> ba'buir- grandfather/grandmother  
> cry baby sauce - I took inspo from my own Dad. There's a Thai restaurant we enjoy and they have a food called Tiger Cry Beef but my Dad always calls it Cry Baby Beef, it has a sauce that some might find too spicy but I love and find kinda mild, it has nice snap to it though.   
> Mythosaurs - so I included the stitched mythosaurs as meaning because of the founding of Mandalore (the planet) Mandalorian's believed that they were the only one's worthy of inhabiting the planet because they could defeat the mythosaurs, everyone else was too scared to try.   
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> Me'ven? - "What?" or "Huh?" expression of bewilderment or disbelief  
> ori'haat - "It's the truth, I swear!"


	6. Oya'karir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oya'karir - Hunt
> 
> POV switch, don't worry it won't give you whiplash

Watching the white figures disappear into the Clan Home is like watching phantoms fade away. Their smells are intoxicating, and they are not yet even in heat. One particular smell is very attractive. Where the others are sweet and cloying, the smell of Din Djarin is _different._

He’s not sure when but at some point in Din’s adulthood, Paz has begun to notice the other’s scent. He catches himself looking for it when the other returns to the clan and missing it when he’s gone. It is frustrating that something so _copyc_ could be attached to the single most aggravating individual he’s ever met.

Paz has only vague memories of a little boy running about with the other Foundlings, he can’t put a face to him though. As it should be, but Din had been so young then that he’s certain he’s seen the other’s face before it was covered. He kind of remembers the child who sat quietly on Tharr’s lap or trailed after the man like a lost pup. A second shadow to his buir. But he can’t honestly recall interacting with Din in any meaningful way, not until the other started growing up.

Oh, he remembers teasing the scrawny pre-teen. Remembers clearly the day Din had walked right up to him in the middle of speaking with his team and _punched_ him! It had not hurt, it really only startled him a bit into taking a step back. But in the same moment his own fist came down and they were brawling. Din had been laughably easy to beat back and pin, although those sharp knees and elbows the teen had had hurt.

He thinks he’d tried asking the little shit what his problem was and like his face, he can’t recall an answer. The boy might have said something but honestly, he’d been too mad to care. His team was no help, laughing their asses off. _Cheering_ Din on. He does recall trussing the boy up arms and legs and dragging him before Tharr to dump at his feet. Tharr had said nothing, only motioned for him to untie his son. He did and Tharr was quick enough to grab hold of him and turn them inside.

After that it was always a battle with them. Battle of will, of character, strength. You name it they had fought over it. If Paz had something to say, Din had thousand things more to say. It seemed a never-ending cycle, Paz eventually calling each and every failure of Din’s out before the clan. Din rising quickly in anger or defense. At some point, whether the Matriarch or Tharr himself, Din began to settle down. And the return of the quiet boy seemed to make a comeback. Maybe it was just maturity. Paz only knows that for some time he was not willing to give up the fight. But Din’s inevitable training with his buir, taking him further away for longer periods made that difficult.

Eventually Din was a grown man with a responsibility to the clan and Paz had his own responsibilities. Their fights were short-lived and rarely came to blows nowadays. The fight in the forge about the beskar was their most recent. And he honestly felt bad about that one. All of the fights he felt bad about really, there had been little point to them. Not even competition. But calling Din a coward had been a poor move. He’s not even sure why he took it that far. Seeing those sacred ingots stamped with Imperial symbols, _tainting_ their surface. That had been too painful.

He could almost hear the Ancestor’s crying out with rage.

But that rage should not have been directed on Din. Din who did so much for the clan, Din who always thought of the Foundlings. Who dedicated himself to their Creed, to the clan. The man who spent his time so far away from those he sought to care for, that it was keeping him from being deeply enmeshed with them. He was pulling away. Not in a way they feared he may leave all together, but it was near thing. And Din not being there, it pained him.

He thought at first it was only because they were so small a clan, eroded away with time and far from home. Losing even one member was one too many. Tharr Djarin had already been sent to scout out the current situation within the New Republic and Mandalore. He couldn’t just come back with frequent reports, especially as the war was getting heated near the end.

But Din being gone weeks or months at a time had strained many of them. They needed the money of course, they had to survive. But it rubbed many of them the wrong way to have two clan members far from home like that. It wasn’t worry exactly, some of it was being forced to hide away underground like rats. Relying on one clan member to support all of them. They couldn’t follow their paths like this.

But they were still a pack, a clan. A family. Their bonds were supposed to be strong, and having one so out of reach even when he was there… He can’t properly find the words for it, but it’s wrong.

And then everything went sideways. Because of course Din still had a taste for walking right up to a person and socking them when they least expected it. So of course, he blew his recent client’s base sky high to save a child. A Foundling. Honestly, Din had a way of being predictable when you weren’t predicting it. They should have known.

Lucky for Din, they were Mandalorian’s. They were always ready for a fight. Especially in defense of their own.

Paz had honestly thought he might not see Din again that day. Didn’t think he would ever again hear the quiet, slightly raspy voice he’d come to love in his private thoughts. Din’s smell, the one he can’t quite place because he never gets close enough, long enough to analyze it.

But here they are, he’s in there. Inside the Reflection Room, with the others waiting to be set loose on the surface. To be hunted.

_Finally,_ Din is old enough for Paz to chance his hand at mating him. Preferably bond with him. And that has been a slow, festering dream he’s harbored for a few years now. Waking disappointed and alone from pleasant dreams of being bonded to Din. More disappointed when he finds Din has still not returned from some damn bounty or another. But that may be over now.

Now, Din has a Foundling of his own. The clan has settled into this new place and Din has plenty of reason to stay, his buir is here and his child could be no place safer. It’s a great chance to get Din reacquainted with the clan.

Paz has a golden opportunity here and doesn’t plan to waste it. Nobody could be more worthy of being his mate.

Problem is, the other Alphas are interested too. Din wasn’t going to be an easy win, Paz knew that. He just hadn’t planned on other Alphas deciding he was worthy too. He should have, but he’d stupidly hoped they wouldn’t notice.

The Omegas have been long gone from the Reflecting Room for at least four hours now, and the Alphas are sitting here now. Waiting for the hunt to start, to be sent out on their trails. Posturing and boasting is common at this time, it’s nothing new to Paz.

It is the first time it irritates him. He wants nothing more than to grind his fellow Alphas faces into the ground for even thinking they have what it takes to win Din over. As though he were some easy Omega whore.

Okay, they are not suggesting Din’s a whore. But his inner Alpha grows increasingly rageful with each second that goes by and he’s forced to listen to them praising Din.

“Din’s grown up quite a bit.” Phaoh Fak, a female Alpha is saying. They’ve all been talking among themselves and they keep circling back on Din.

“He’s proven himself to be worthy of the name Mandalorian. Tharr is no doubt proud of his son. He’s accomplished much in their time apart, and is showing great signs for being a good buir.” Jhasla Lyrek is another female Alpha, she’s already mated to Nas Vydyss. But Nas sustained injuries as a child that made producing children impossible and their time underground has not afforded opportunities to acquire a Foundling. She and Nas are hoping to form a Triad, an understanding between three partners to come together to produce a child. It really only occurs for those in Nas and Jhasla’s position, wanting a child but unable to have one. Adding a third partner to the mix allows for a child to be born. It is seen as a blessing for a child to have three parents, they have many skills to pull from.

Paz himself has two biological children born from different Omega females, Jhia Stryvywr and Ka Chell. Jhia had no desire to bond but she did choose to keep the child born from their mating, a female Alpha they named Khal Vizla. Ka Chell later bonded with Alpha Zerr Zoluss about three years after birthing Paz’s Alpha son Xoeth Vizla. Ka and Zerr had twins of their own now.

Xoeth was his eldest and was a tall boy of nine and his half-sister Khal was also quite tall at age seven. Paz had two other children to his name, his remaining sons Trath and Caz. Both Foundlings. Trath was an eight year old Alpha, small and quiet but a blazing inferno hidden within. He reminded Paz of Din in many ways. Caz was his youngest and only Omega child, a fair-haired little thing of four. Caz was like something sent from the Heaven’s, the child was ethereal looking. Bright pale blue eyes in a fair face, pale locks that seemed to glow. Endlessly a troublemaker.

Caz was probably going to be the child that broke him. It would be a miracle if Paz allowed Caz to ever join The Trials (as if he had any say). He’d probably be all too ready to kill the first Alpha that dared show interest. Not something he’d thought of too much until Caz had entered his life.

Waik Pahl shifts from his position sitting near the back, the only Alpha who had been in white, but is now armored. “It’ll be interesting to see Din in action. Other than having it out with Paz.”

The other Alphas laugh and Paz only shakes his head, though under his helmet he’s baring his teeth at the young Alpha. The other Alphas; female Khamrah Aivhel, males Rhillallis Brakkyk and Vraax Craurs are lounging about as they all talk. Rhillallis is the eldest participating Alpha at forty five years of age, followed by Paz himself at thirty five. Then Vraax and Jhasla at thirty two, Phaoh who is twenty nine, twenty seven year old Khamrah and finally Waik at twenty six.

They probably aren’t the oddest bunch of Alpha’s to participate in the Trials but it is still a bit of a mash up. Besides Paz, Vraax is the only other Alpha here with a child. Vraax has a Foundling daughter named Ria who is the same age as Caz and also an Omega. So, the two Alphas are a bit closer than they have been in past years, their two little Omegas see to that. Attached to one another as they are.

It’s Vraax he ultimately settles down beside as they wait.

“Planning to go after Djarin?”

He turns to face Vraax momentarily, “Yes, you?”

Vraax chuckles, “If I can get close enough. Ria is as enamored with him as she is our Matriarch. He’d not be a bad Omega for her to look up to. It would be an honor to share a mating with him. Though a bond would be preferable.”

Paz only grunts in response, too bad. He _had_ liked Vraax. For Ria and Caz’s sake he can’t just kill the man though. And there’s the rules too. But it’s mostly for the kids’ sakes. Mostly.

A hand coming down to clap him on the shoulder pulls him back as Vraax chuckles in his quiet way, “You needn’t be so opposed, _vod._ He may not take any of us.”

This grabs everyone’s attention.

“You think he’ll be _Unattainable?_ ” Rhillallis asks.

“It’s possible. One who goes about being a _beroya_ must have exceptional skills in staying hidden. I don’t imagine all his bounties have been shoot outs. I’m sure many have been very covert.”

This seems to give everyone something to think on thankfully, cause if Paz has to hear one more Alpha speak of hunting Din he’s not sure he’ll keep it together.

“Alphas,”

They all rise to the knees as their Matriarch stands in the doorway.

“Follow me.”

She leads them out the same way she took the Omegas, provides them with maps to find their way back to the covert when all is done.

“Good hunting Alphas, may you be deemed worthy. _Parjir._ ”

“Thank you, Matriarch.”

When she has gone, Paz turns to face his fellow Alphas, a hidden grin of a snarl under his helmet.

_“Oya!”_

_“Oya manda!”_

And then they are gone. Each leaving in a flash, hoping to find the victories they seek.

And for Paz Vizla, the man he’s hoping will find him worthy.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

Din’s been on the move steadily for the last six hours. Unfortunately, it’s within that last hour that the tea’s affects begin to kick in. At first, he’d felt just a bit on edge, then minor cramping had begun. By the time the sixth hour had hit, he was nearly ready to just fall into his nest and blankets and sleep forever. Not that he’d ever been allowed to do that.

But frankly he’s never wanted to just reach into himself and scrape out his insides, not like this. The tea magnifies the bodies need to go into heat so that a proper one can start. He’s suffered cramps before from his previous heats, and evil as they were, he’d not given much thought to them. Learned to ignore them most of the time. But this time, _stars!_ this time he just wants someone to punch him as hard as they can. Anything for the cramps to just go away. And he’s not even started a proper heat yet!

He’s beginning to see why the title of Unattainable is so difficult to earn, the tea’s effects are making him sloppy in his technique. At least he thinks he’s being sloppy. He’s for sure being slower, constantly feeling a nagging need to double check he has covered his tracks properly.

But he’s managed to find a decent little place to tuck away in. It’ll be better once he’s covered it properly. Three of the massive vine like trees have collapsed on top of one another and they’ve made a rather difficult crawlspace, but squeezing within far enough opens into a space he can stand inside of comfortably and there’s tons of space to stretch out and set up camp for the time being.

Alphas would have a hard time reaching him if they found him, being too big to climb through the narrow spaces of the vines. And they’ll have an even more difficult time smelling him once he’s laid out the barrier. The barrier is a specially designed fabric used for Omegas on the go, it acts as a smell barrier to keep their scent in without Alphas sniffing out their hidden nests. It’s geometric design is capable of forming to a space without the Omega needing to fuss with it too much. Mostly they just have to be staked into the ground, easy enough. And the Mandalorian tradition of digging down into the ground provides an extra barrier that makes an Omega feel secure and is scent blocking.

Din has been carefully crafting out his new space for at least four hours now and it’s just about ready for the barrier to be set up. That’s when he hears it.

It sounds like a jet pack.

Finding himself frozen for the first time he manages to snap himself out of it and realizes he needs to make a decision and make it now.

_Stay and rush putting up the barrier. Hope the Alpha hasn’t caught his scent. Or flee, he can build up a new nest somewhere else. This place is already compromised._

His indecision costs him, the sound of the jet pack is closer and sounds like they are moving to land. He’ll have to run for it, fight his way out and set up elsewhere.

Grabbing his supplies, he hastily rams everything back into the pack he’s been carrying with him, he’d normally pack things away neatly but now isn’t the time for neat. There’s an Alpha out there hunting him and he can’t just sit around pretending to be calm.

Because he’s not calm. The Trials feels like a stupid decision that wasn’t really a decision. He knew about The Trials same as everyone else and part of him is excited to face off against Alphas and have his first mating. Maybe a bond, he’s still not sure about that yet but his inner Omega gets excited about it.

Not for the first time in his life he wishes his inner Omega was one he could touch, because honestly, he wants to strangle it.

It’s got no right making them excitable over the _idea_ of submitting sexually to an Alpha.

But it arouses him all the same.

Crawling hastily in the opposite direction from where he hears the jet pack, he worms his way out of an especially tight section of vines. Landing on hands and knees he takes a moment to stop and listen, determine what direction he needs to move towards so he’s out of sight of the Alpha.

Time slows down when he watches in slow motion as an Alpha in a jet pack lands just ahead of him. About twenty feet out and Din swears he can feel the heavy thud of his impact. He’s not sure at first who he is seeing but it’s definitely Rhillallis, an older Alpha.

_Experienced._

The evil Omega in his brain is thrilled by that prospect and once again, he wants to strangle it. Experienced Rhillallis certainly is, but Din had hoped to go unnoticed for a few hours more at least! This seems too soon.

Had he been that awful at covering his tracks? Or was the Alpha just incredibly lucky, flying about at insane speeds to catch up to the Omegas hours ahead of him.

It irritates him that it could just be luck.

A deep warning growl from his own chest almost surprises him, but he’s honestly mad about this.

The Alpha growls in return, dark and menacing sounding. A warning of its own.

A thump and tree debris falling about him has him turning to look above.

_Fuck!_

Another fucking Alpha! Seriously?

This one appears to be Waik, standing above him and eyeing the whole situation.

“It would seem we’ve both found Din. You understand what that means?”

A low growl and straightening spine from Waik, “Of course. I won’t make it easy for you. _Elder_ or not.”

Din pulls himself to standing as the two Alphas come to ground level, squaring off. Waiting for the other to make his move.

They're Mandalorian’s, they don’t wait long.

Din is forced to watch the two Alpha’s facing off in one of the most violent displays he’s ever seen outside a battle. They’re throwing their all into this battle, snarling and slamming against one another. It honestly looks like they’re trying to kill each other, probably would have if they had any weapons of value that could pierce the beskar armor.

Waik is a smaller fighter than Rhillallis, he’s faster and lighter compared to the wide wall of muscle that is the older Alpha. He makes a go for Rhillallis’s legs, trying to sweep them to gain better leverage but Rhillallis is too seasoned a veteran for that. He tricks the younger Alpha into going for his right leg, placed in such a way as to seem weak and off balanced. But when Waik tries he’s pulled up short and tossed over the other’s shoulder like a sack.

But Waik manages to get his knee into the others back as he’s going over, twisting his body in such a way that he pulls the big Alpha to the ground with him. Grappling each other and trying to lock the other into a pin, pushing and snarling. More than once Rhillallis is able to use his upper body to lift them both from the ground and slam Waik underneath him, two, three and four times.

Waik is struggling to grapple Rhillallis just how he wants him, the other Alpha is big and he’s having a hard time maintaining a hold on him without sacrificing a hold elsewhere.

But Rhillallis manages to finally grapple the smaller Alpha into a pin, maneuvering them so that Waik is pinned face first to the ground and the open threat of Rhillallis’ hand between his neck and helmet makes him go still. The hold is dangerously close to his scent gland and in a position to lift the helmet off with ease.

He doesn’t do that, the fight is won honorably and Waik has no choice but to yield.

Standing the two turn and face each other, the two Alphas murmur something to each other and Waik turns away to leave.

Just as Paz Vizla comes crashing to the ground.

He startles all of them, everyone jumping to battle readiness. After realizing its another Mandalorian and not an actual enemy, they relax. _Marginally._

Waik flies off, loss in honorable combat means he can continue on to find another Omega. But now Din has to sit here and wait for these two to finish up. Meanwhile his insides feel like they’re being sucked into a black hole.

Their fight is much different. Both are heavy artillery men and they don’t wait around to feel one another out. They know each other quite well, being on the same team for years now. They also don’t hold back.

The sound of their beskar slamming together nearly makes Din flinch, the sound is so violent. But it’s nearly nothing compared to the unhinged snarls of the combatants.

Din’s never heard anything sound like that. He’s been growled at, even snarled at. But he’s never heard anything so primal and hateful. The two sound like they’d be quite happy to tear one another apart and bathe in the other’s blood.

They don’t grapple each other, they know that if they want to win they’ll have to tear one another apart. Beat the other so down they have no choice but to return to the covert, because they won’t be able to go on.

Rhillallis has moved himself into Paz’s space, stepping in close and trying to force the other off balance by tripping him up with his legs. Paz keeps shifting though, he doesn’t give in or move where the other wants him to. Just follows him beat for beat.

Rhillallis brings his arms from outside Paz’s guard and wraps his hands around the back of his neck, he attempts to bring the other down, to drive Paz’ face into his knee. But Paz takes this moment to shift himself, twisting just right he ducks down and around the intended direction, bringing himself back up behind Rhillallis. He locks his arms under the older Alphas arms and pulls back and up, at the same time he drives his right foot into the back of Rhillallis’ knee. Dead legging him, allowing gravity to pull the man downward. Paz’s grip brings him to a painful stop and uses the momentum to further unbalance the man, he pushes his knee into his back driving him forward and down. But Paz keeps hold of the other man’s arms and as they move forward it drives the shoulders painfully back.

It is a hold the other man cannot break without suffering sever damage. It’s over after that. Conceding defeat Rhillallis growls but there’s no real threat behind it. Paz lets him up once he’s decided the other man has submitted enough and sends him on his way.

When Paz turns to face him he can’t help the immediate growl that rises up, _“Slana’pir!”_

Paz scoffs, “Rude, as always.”

_“Me’copaani?”_

He doesn’t have the patience for Paz’ games, always looking to aggravate him. Of course, he had to find him, defeat a perfectly good Alpha just to ruin Din’s day. He just can’t have anything his way when Paz is around.

“I want what I have earned, _cyare._ The right to fight you in heat-rut combat.”

Din can’t help the hiss that he lets out, “You just can’t cease teasing me can you? You can’t even fight me without name calling like a child.”

“Name calling?”

“Don’t be stupid!” Paz growls, “You know damn well you’re here just to degrade me. That’s all this is to you isn’t it? Just a damn game. That my first Trial has to be ruined by someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Arrogant! _Ori’buyce, khi’kovid!_ Fat head!”

Paz laughs heartily over that one, he was almost getting angry for the insults. “You have always been _nehutyc, cyare._ I’ll enjoy out time together.”

Din’s growls have begun to pitch higher, he’s not in the mood for these games. The cramping is becoming increasingly fierce and he can feel himself becoming slick in both his holes.

He needs to finish this, before he’s too weakened to do anything else. He’ll be lucky if he can find the energy to move on after this, it’s becoming more likely that he’ll have to chance staying here after he runs Paz off.

“C’mon then, I haven’t got all day.”

Paz’s is pleased rumble is all the warning he gets. When he blinks the growing sweat from his eyes, the large man has already crossed over half the distance between them. And he’s bearing down fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers and Paz! *evil laugh*
> 
> copyc - attractive (not necessarily in terms of looks, generally appealing) Generally considered a separate idea for Mandos, and is another one of those 'open' words that could refer to anything  
> vod - brother, sister, comrade, mate  
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> parjir - be victorious, win  
> Oya! -"Let's hunt!"  
> Oya manda! - expression of Mando solidarity, in this instance I'm using it to be the response to the above  
> "Slana'pir!" - "Get lost!" or "Get out!" impolite phrase  
> "Me'copaani?" - "What do you want?" or "What would you like?"  
> cyare - beloved, loved, popular  
> Ori'buyce, khi'kovid! - "All helmet, no head." common term of derision for someone with an overdeveloped sense of authority  
> nehutyc - feisty, gutsy


	7. Mar'e!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the updated tags lovies! POV switches here, hopefully it's not annoying.
> 
> So, to clear up any confusion, Omegas CAN refuse a mating. One’s virginity is neither praised for being intact nor rebuked for losing before they are ‘of age’. Mating is encouraged during The Trials because Mandalorian’s have a lust for life and all the things they can experience in it. So, losing one’s virginity during The Trials or having sex in general during this time is an experience they all look forward to. Regardless of who the partner may be. They’re kinda hoarders of life experiences, so nobody cares one way or another about the when, who and how of losing your virginity. Or future partners. Young Mandos like Din generally prefer to stay virginal because the Trials are more exciting than losing one’s virginity to some rando. It’s like real life in a way; young people or a virginal newlywed imagining the perfect scenario for losing their V-card. For Mandos its battle and hunting versus a nice hotel after prom or a wedding night. Same thing, different methods. The important thing is experiencing The Trials, not so much the sex. That’s just the cherry on top that drives their primal sides to hunt one another. This is why the title of Unattainable exists, for those who remain untouched because of their strength and skills, not because they’re a virgin. You can still be an Unattainable and lose your V-card before or after the Trials.

Din drops into a crouch and waits for Paz, the inevitable impact from Paz’ lowered shoulders doesn’t come. Din uses his crouch to spring into a forward roll over Paz’ right shoulder, landing just behind the large man he kicks back into his legs. He barely scrapes him because Paz has used his own momentum to spring into his own forward roll, allowing him to escape Din’s kick.

Crouched low and facing one another, Din is faced with the very reality of just how big Paz is. The man is still taller than Din in this position and no less broad. Feinting left only to be met head on by Paz he’s nearly taken to the ground. It’s an awkward display but Paz has only managed to grasp Din around his waist and the small male is using his back legs to support himself from being dragged onto his back.

Paz swings left and right, turning them about in a half circle as Din somehow manages to keep his feet under himself. Using a moment for Paz to readjust his footing gives Din his moment to use his superior flexibility.

Swinging his legs back and up he’s able to snag Paz between his knees and use that leverage to hoist himself out of Paz’s grip on his waist. Swinging up he brings both his arms together to drive his elbows down into the others helmet. The shock sends Paz reeling back, traveling down his spine and causing his limbs to fall loose.

Just as he’s ready to drop, Din uses the helmet as leverage to lift himself up and swing his legs down into a strong kick that knocks Paz flat on his back. As Paz is falling Din’s kick forces him to spring off Paz’s chest into a backflip, using his hands to spring back into an upright crouched position.

He critically eyes the big Alpha laid out on the ground, his movements are a bit stiff from the double blows of being winded and knocked senseless. If he’s going to run Paz off, he needs to get the big male to submit and this is the perfect chance.

Springing forward he dashes in to drop down on top of the man to grapple him into a pin, moving down to grab his shoulders as his legs straddle the others chest. Just as he’s got hold of his right shoulder, Paz springs up and grabs him first by his throat then his arm. Swinging them both over and down, with Din on his back.

Naturally Din curled up to spring away but once on his back, his knees become pinned against his and Paz’ chest. Growling in aggravation Din squirms to try and get free. But Paz is not having that, he uses his full weight to press the other down hearing Din’s quiet huff as the air is squeezed out of him.

Din scrabbles to find a way loose, using his legs and the ground he presses his shoulders further down and lifts with his legs. Pushing up he’s able to lift both himself and Paz about three inches off the ground and swings his body to the right, toppling them both to the side.

Paz is quietly impressed by the display of strength and is only more determined to win this battle.

Din meanwhile is still pushing with his legs at Paz’s chest, trying to leverage some distance that might break his hold. But he keeps a firm hold on Din’s arms, dragging him forward. The whole position would be hilarious were it not for their aggressive snarling. The closer he pulls Din in the more the other fights against it, once he’s close enough, he starts to reel him in tight so he can position himself over Din again.

Din’s response is to start kicking into Paz’s chest, bringing his knees back as much as possible to make the kicks hurt. When Din goes for another kick and brings his left leg back, Paz rolls into the open space between his knees, trapping Din’s right leg under his weight and forcing the other wide around his ribs.

Din’s furious snarl is all the warning he gets when the other attempts to slam his own helmet into Paz’s face. The angle is awkward though and he barely skims the crown. Paz pushes down on to Din with his weight dropping into his arms, Din lets out a small groan. He uses his weight to bring the others arms together until he can grasp the slim wrists in one hand and quickly reaches back with his free hand for a rope.

The second Din sees what he has his struggles renew and the snarling is near feral sounding. Paz takes a moment to lean down and snarl menacingly into the small males’ visor and an angrier growl is returned. Just as he’s securing the others’ wrists Din slides his legs up and through his own arms and flips over backwards so that he’s crouched and facing Paz, no longer pinned and face to face.

The surprise does not end there when Din springs forward and knocks him down, managing to pull his bound hands free from Paz’s grip. Din takes off running, weaving around trees and looking for an opportunity turn the tide of this battle.

Furious, Paz runs after him. Not far behind and hot on Din’s trail. Picking up speed to keep up with the lithe figure he takes two more steps and then he’s launching into the air.

The sound of a jet pack roaring to life gives Din’s legs more reason to pump furiously. Tearing around and under vine like trunks and rocks, he tries to find some way of gaining the upper hand. His training as a bounty hunter and his stamina from years of his buir chasing him down like this has given him the staying power he needs to keep moving. To look for a chance to even the odds.

Din is abruptly yanked off his feet into a half spin that causes him to land painfully on his chest first, knocking the breath from his lungs. Before he’s recovered enough to grasp what has happened, his bound arms which he has landed on, are yanked out from under him and he’s dragged a few feet before suddenly the ground is rapidly disappearing.

He’s shocked to realize that the rope Paz had been using was actually quite long, and it’s this that Paz has caught the other end of and is using to drag Din skyward.

Up, up, _up_ they continue with Paz above him and Din dangling down below. The mists of the canopies bead upon his helmet and quickly blot out his visor, and Paz himself is little more than a shadow he only knows is there because of the tether.

Flailing uselessly as Paz drags them one way then another, the canopies close enough that some them buffet against his boots, Din tries and fails to reel himself upwards enough to gain some control. Or maybe get loose.

It happens in slow motion. He’s suddenly aware of the large blur that is Paz rocketing past him in a downward, headfirst drop. The rope loosely trailing him. He turns to track the others moves when Paz suddenly turns himself sideways, catching the loose part of the rope and performing a yank and turn like motion.

He realizes too late just what the other man is doing. The rope seems to mock him in slow motion as the force of the yank travels the length of the rope, traveling up and into an arch that pulls his wrists and Din with it. Crossing the arch of the pull he’s suddenly yanked down; Paz’s move is flinging him back to the ground below. The ground he _can’t even see._

And suddenly he’s rocketing past Paz at breakneck speed, the thick first layer of mist slapping against his helmet. The canopy of smoky purple passes him by, slapping at his body as he’s passes. The second mist layer slams into him like needles and suddenly dark red, almost black stone is rushing up to him. He’s been flung down towards a jagged bit of mountain and all he can see is the quickly rising surface that’ll likely kill him.

He’s immediately filled with regret. Paz is _actually_ going to kill him, and his kid will be alone.

The thought sends his already breathless chest into a deep, pained ache.

Everything grinds to a painful stop when Paz slams into his back, arms locking around his waist. Before he can react, they are both righted by Paz and they descend rapidly feet first to the ground in mere seconds, where Paz shoves him forward the last five or so feet from the ground and he lands _again,_ chest and face first.

Breathless, cold and still reeling from nearly being splattered on an unknown planet he can’t move as Paz drops down and swiftly secures the remainder of the rope around his wrists and up his arms. The sound of a grappling being shot followed by the hollow _thunk_ of it attaching to something and he hears Paz rapidly walk away.

_Get up! Get up NOW!_

But he can barely get his chest to rise and fall, let alone move. Paz is back quickly, and he keeps Din face down as he drags the small males’ hands down between his own knees, forcing him into a submissive position. The sound of something detaching from a gauntlet is heard next and Paz is securing the free end of his grappling wire to the rope. He loops it through and around in a complicated pattern and ties it off. He stands and moves back to the other end of the grapple and suddenly Din is yanked as the wire is pulled tight, forcing his shoulders forward and down into the ground, his arms straining from the taught wire pulling him down and forcing his arms backwards between his knees. This all works to hold him firmly into a proper mounting position, unable to squirm.

The air seems to finally find its way to filling his lungs and he snarls as Paz comes to kneel on his right.

_“Damn you, Paz!”_

“Udesiir,” Paz murmurs as Din squirms and fights scraping his face to turn and look at him. “I’ve won this fight fairly, cyar’ika.” He reaches out and pats Din’s lower back and lets his left-hand rest there, before following his spine down to rub between strained shoulders, feeling the light tremors and straining muscle.

“There is no shame in defeat during honorable combat. And I have won the right to decide the outcome of our battle.”

Din’s harsh pants slowly ease into a normal pace, he shifts his legs a bit before a great sigh is released.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I want to share this heat with you.”

_“Osi’kyr!”_

_“Ori’haat.”_

Din clicks his tongue in disbelief and Paz waits patiently, rubbing his hand slowly up and down his spine.

“Fine. But I _swear_ , Paz Vizla if you so much as-”

“You have my word, Din. I won’t dishonor you. I vow to make this the best heat you’ve ever had.”

Din scoffs, “That’ll be the day.” They stare into each other’s visors a second more. _“Rangir.”_

Paz chuckles fondly at the exclamation and moves away from Din’s side to stand behind him. He suddenly feels nervous, this isn’t the first time he’s been with an Omega. But this is the first time with Din. _Hopefully_ not the last time.

Kneeling he runs his hands up the outside of Din’s thighs and up to his hips, slowly moving in towards his lower back. He can feel Din’s unintentional flinch then rigid posture. Carefully he begins to remove the lower armor piece by piece. Placing them to the side he turns back and palpates Din’s hips, Din quietly grunts and shifts his legs and ultimately his hips.

Leaning around the other he undoes the simple belts and tie holding his mates pants up. They are all wearing simpler garments under their armor, no less protective but not as complicated to remove. Not like the full suit they typically wear beneath.

Din’s breath hitches and he goes completely still as Paz slowly pulls the garment down past the curve of his hips, over his rear and down his thighs to settle on the back of his knees and upper calves. The air is cold, and they are high up enough that the mist is making things dewy and wet. Droplets of water are left behind by the receding pants, and Din shivers as they spill down his spine and hips.

Paz himself is struck breathless by the sight of Din’s naked flesh. His skin is lightly tanned, and a small dark mole is resting just above the right of his tailbone. Following the path of flesh leads to slim hips that flare out just the slightest bit, common among Omega males but Din is on the slimmer side of what some species consider attractive in male Omegas. His ass is toned and well formed, and he can’t help grasping the firm flesh. Din squirms and whines a bit. Gripping the flesh causes the two globes to part and reveal the slick hole hidden between. It’s all he can do not to immediately dive in to feast on the other and drags his eyes downward to the slit where other males’ testicles would be. It too is slick with on-coming heat and clenching nervously. Hanging further ahead is Din’s soft cock, sizable for an Omega and very pretty.

Gazing further leads him to slim and muscled thighs and calves, well-toned and healthy. The other is athletic as Paz knew he would be, being a Mandalorian. But nothing could have prepared him for just how appealing his mate would be beneath his clothes. Dragging his hands back up and down the path of Din’s hips and outer thighs and resting back on the crest of ass, he grips the left cheek firmly and glides the right down along the part, sliding past the tight pucker and turning to dip down over the wet slit. Gathering slick as he goes, he pushes onward and grips the slim cock firmly at the base before slipping up to gently squeeze the head.

Din jumps at the feel of Paz’s hands traveling along his body, he squirms and tries to push forward, away from the hands as they traverse over his hole and slit, only to jump and hiss when his cock is firmly squeezed. The gush of slick from both of his holes brings burning embarrassment and he’s swiftly reminded how painful his insides are right now. They ache in a way that pinches deep inside, almost painful if it were not for the rising arousal that comes with it.

_“Good, ner kar’taylir darasuum.”_

Paz’s deep voice floods over Din and his Omega preens with the praise, a flood of wet seems to escape him and he can’t help the surprised gasp and it feels like his helmet is stifling, there’s not enough air. He fairly trembles as Paz growls with dark pleasure as he watches the wetness seep from his mates holes, slowly tracking downwards.

Suddenly Paz springs to his feet and he’s rustling about with his pack, yanking supplies out viciously. Din strains his neck to try and comfortably rest his head, but his position and helmet leave it painfully angled. He only learns what Paz is up to as the big Alpha passes by him to slam stakes into the ground every few feet. Realizing that Paz is going to be distracted with setting up a barrier and nest, he squirms about trying to loosen his bindings. Just because he agreed to Paz’ win doesn’t mean he won’t still fight him. It is well within the rules for him to escape, it’s no one’s fault but Paz’ if he can’t keep hold of an Omega.

He yanks, strains and pulls at his bindings as Paz is moving about. Nothing gives and all he’s doing is straining his arms and shoulders in a way that makes it feel like they’ll dislocate if he carries on. And his neck is pulled at in the process and his helmets rim catches a few times on the rock below, nearly lifting it off his head. Forcing him to push his face back into the ground just to try and resettle it properly.

Paz himself is more than aware of Din’s struggles but is confident in his work. He’d attached the other end of the grapple to a sturdy tree that jutted out over the edge of the outcropping they have landed on; the space is set into the face of a large cliff with a slow-moving waterfall rumbling nearby. The place has eroded a small, deep set opening that is the beginnings of a cave. It is no deeper than fifteen feet from its entrance and about ten feet across with an eight foot ceiling. It is the perfect space to provide them shelter and safety, all Paz has to do is set up the barrier and cover the opening in a way that won’t attract attention.

Between the barrier and the waterfall no smell or sound will attract any wildlife or observers. Hopefully possible challengers will be none the wiser. It couldn’t be a more perfect spot. It appeases the Alpha within him and once Din has settled his own inner Omega will be pleased as well. Their instinctive natures will be appeased enough for Din’s heat to properly trigger.

It is going to take time however to properly set that up and part of Paz just wants to do the bare minimum so he can indulge in Din. But that is not good enough, not for Din and not for Paz. Neither of their instincts will be happy with that either, and he promised to make Din’s heat a good experience. He intends to do that. But if he’s going to get this done without having to worry that Din may succeed in breaking free, he’s going to have to keep his little mate distracted.

Din is probably also in pain from cramping and there’s one good way Paz knows of to appease an Omegas cramps from the tea _and_ keep them distracted.

Turning back to his pack and routing about he pulls four small objects out. He’s been holding on to them for a while now, fantasies running away with him. At the time they had been a foolish purchase, but now they would finally earn their worth. Reaching back in he pulls out a spare roll of medical tape and drops the bag at his feet.

Din stops struggling as he returns to his side and kneels beside his head.

“I’m going to be busy setting up a proper den for us, so I need you to behave while I’m doing that.”

_“Are you serious?”_ Din hisses at him.

“Yes, cyar’ika. But I won’t leave you to suffer, I vowed to give you a good heat and these will help ease your cramping until I’m done.”

Din’s confusion grows when Paz opens his hands to show him two small bullet shaped objects, one rounded one and a switch?

“What… are those?”

Instead of answering Paz stands and kneels back behind Din once again, _“Paz…”_

“K’urr.”

“Paz, seriously- _ah!”_

Paz lightly presses one of the bullet-like objects against Din’s slick pucker, rolling it smoothly and liberally through his slick before slowly pressing it inside. Bit by bit he presses the object forward, rumbling soothingly as Din whines and tries to pull away. The approaching heat and continued cramping have made Din’s holes soft and pliable, making the need to prepare his virginal body nearly non-existent. Heats by their very nature are intended to allow partners to come together quickly to increase the likelihood of procreation. A partner who is pained by simple preparation doesn’t typically induce the right environment for procreation, and nature has had its hand in making this process simpler by inducing heats.

Increasing an Omegas internal temperature and slick production allows for the optimum environment for seed to live longer on their journey to the womb. Combined with an Alphas knot, another potentially painful process that require preparation outside of heats, an Omega in heat is more likely to fall pregnant and the lack of pain and stress promotes a healthy sex life.

And this is why it is so easy for Paz to slip the object and his first finger all the way inside of Din, right up against his prostate. Drawing back as Din shudders and pants, he picks up the twin of the first object and rolls it between the lips of Din’s vagina. Once fully wet he presses this inside too, pushing past flushed lips and pressing it as deep as it can safely go. Din’s clenching walls are warm and moist and when he pulls his fingers out, he brings a trail of slick with them.

If his helmet wasn’t on he’d be licking the mess between his first and middle fingers, as it is he picks up the small ball and rolls it carefully between the slick fingers. Watching the dull casing become shiny and slick. Moving down and bending to see, he slips the ball beneath Din’s cock and rests it just between the head and shaft, picking up the medical tape he tapes the object firmly in place and pulls away. Moving back into position he stands up and moves back to Din’s head.

“How is this supposed to help my cramps?”

Paz is quiet as he juggles the medical tape and switch in his hand until he moves the switch into his right.

“Paz! How is this supposed to help?”

Paz turns back to look at Din and the smugness in his voice sends worry though Din’s body.

“Like this.”

Everything bursts into sudden and frantic motion inside of him. He shrieks as the _things_ Paz put inside of him and on his cock jump to life. Moving so frenetically that he’s sure they are going to burrow straight into his core and never come back out.

His insides churn and pulse in response to the wicked vibrations on and in his sensitive places. He’s never known anything like this, didn’t imagine it was a possibility. His hips shake and his legs desperately scrabble to find deeper purchase, he can’t stop the wavering cries.

_It’s all too much! Damn Paz!_

Paz himself is struck by the sight of Din’s body jumping to life from the stimulus, his hips tighten as the rest of him squirms. And the noises he’s making. _Damn,_ if they don’t send a thrill racing through him. He can hear the light rasp as he cries out. He has to turn away and quickly stomps over to the bag to dump the tape inside. He pockets the switch and pulls out his knife, extra rope and the barrier sheet.

Setting up the barrier to the stakes he’d planted goes quickly, even with Din’s frantic wailing in the background. When he’s finished this he turns and walks past Din, stopping to look back gives him the enticing sight of Din’s flushed body dripping sweat and slick.

Turning back around he launches into the air and descends to the canopy below. A quick back track from memory leads him to Din’s original nest site and he gathers all the gear left behind, the map especially. Can’t have anyone finding that out here and leading them right to the covert. Once he’s sure everything is gathered, he attaches the pack to his belt and sets about collecting brush and other usable fauna.

Once he’s satisfied he has all he needs, he bundles it and launches back into the air again. He travels quickly back to Din and lands nearby him, dropping the bundled fauna and tossing Din’s pack next to his.

_“Paz… gedet’ye…”_

“Soon, cyar’ika.” Din’s voice sounds wrecked, he’s been gone about fifteen minutes.

_“Nayc! K’olar!”_

_No! Come here!_

_“K’uur!”_

_Hush!_

_“Nayc, jii…”_

_No, now…_

_“N’epar nu pirur!”_

_It can wait – no rush._

Din truly starts to whine now, his voice breaking in raspy breaths and heated pants. A small wail has him walking over to witness Din in the middle of an orgasm. His body spasms and his thighs gleam with slick and the ground is soaked to near black from the puddle being absorbed beneath him.

No wonder he’s already begging. Unaccustomed to being stimulated like this, let alone inside.

When the orgasm lets go of him, Din is left trying to slump limp to the ground, but his position keeps him held tight and it brings on distressed mewls.

“Soon, cyar’ika. Let me finish.”

Moving quickly, it takes him another hour before the outside is fully covered to his liking and he moves the gear inside. Within he sets up digging out two spaces, one for the nest and the other for a fire. By the time he’s done doing this and a fire is roaring to life and lighting the space up, it is steadily turning to evening. And Din is still outside whining pitiably.

Moving swiftly, he marches outside to the tree and with the fading light he unties it from the trunk and winds it in his hands as he approaches Din. The Omega has been sitting this way long enough that he hasn’t noticed the slack in the grapple and continues to hold the mounting position.

Paz undoes the wire from the knots he made between the rope and pulls Din upwards into his chest. The sudden change causes him to hiss but not much else when he’s hit with another orgasm. As Din is riding out this new orgasm, Paz picks him up and carries him into the den.

The light helps Paz find his way to the nest where he sets Din face down again into the previous position. Only this time he removes the others helmet and sets it outside the nest. Turning back reveals loose black-brown curls and a handsome face. Din’s covered in sweat and he’s flushed from the cold and multiple orgasms. He has a straight nose leading to full lips, surrounded by a thin beard on a handsome jawline.

While Din is still reeling, he removes his own helmet and strips down before fully removing Din’s pants as well and pushing his tunic up his back and over his head where it gets caught on the ropes over his arms. And for the first time he can truly smell Din.

Not just his heat but his actual scent. It’s warm and inviting, quiet like the man himself. Bringing his nose down to the scent gland reveals a burst of jasmine and marula, a warm honey and lemon scent mixed in. Din smells like home, _yaim._ But not like food or baked goods, he smells like warm fires, summer nights, lazy winters under heavy blankets. He smells like comfort. Like all the things Paz has dreamed of sharing with Din. He smells like family. The smell of his slick and heat scent is like spice and sweetness, like the taste of what one expects from something spicy mixed with fruit or caramel.

Reaching back for his pocket only to remember he’s disrobed; he grabs the switch from his clothes and turns it off. Din’s desperate mewls bleed into tired pants only to be shocked awake as Paz reaches into him again to pull out the evil objects, dripping in his slick and then the ball attached to his cock.

He turns his head to see Paz for the first time. Still tall with defined muscles, but his masculine face sits below his shaved head, a maintained dark, full beard and handsome grey eyes that seem lit by determination and aggression, as equally as passion.

Their eyes meet for the first time and they couldn’t be more opposite. Din’s small frame and dark features with light red-brown eyes and Paz’s paler, rugged features in a massive build with bright grey eyes. Like summer clashing against winter without fall to separate them. But it lights a passion within them both.

Paz bends down to nuzzle first Din’s jaw then down over his scent gland, Din rises to meet him before turning his head for better access. Both inhaling deeply the others scent.

Paz smells like smoke and cold, like a forest in winter. He smells like the air he flies through and leather and metal. He smells like Din’s beskar once newly smelted and formed. Paz smells like things deep and wild, hidden and feared. It’s as attractive as it is terrifying, it sends electricity racing though Din’s stomach and into his womb. Making his already sore cunt pinched and stimulated.

Paz pulls back using Din’s hips for balance and settles back to look down. Din flushes with renewed embarrassment and can’t help squirming under the scrutiny.

“How many?”

“Orgasms, I mean.”

_Oh._ “I- I lost count…after the fifth one.”

Paz rumbles deeply and his eyes turn dark with lust, that sends a thrill once more into Din.

“Sore?”

Din worries his lower lip, eyes darting from Paz to the ground before nodding.

“That’s too bad,” Din turns to look up, “cause I’m not done with you yet.”

Din’s eyes widen and he mewls submissively as Paz’s large hands grab his hips and pushes at him until his back curves. He’s nearly shoving Din onto his shoulders and face, diving down to devour the exposed cunt.

Din screams and bucks up, nearly toppling forward over his own head before Paz takes a firm hold of his waist and hips. Paz moves in close further forcing Din’s legs off the ground and pulling the other in close to his face. He’s pressed in tight to Din’s cunt, tracing the outside and worrying the lips while Din squirms. He slips his tongue into the dripping space and Din’s squeal only causes Paz to huff a laugh before he’s pressing deeper and rapidly flicking his tongue inside. Scraping the walls and tasting his mates nectar.

Din is gasping and squirming on the ground, the feel of the man doing _that_ to him is beyond the maddening vibrations he’d been forced to suffer as Paz had set the den up. He didn’t think anything could make him feel so insane, wrung out and tired. But the _touch_ of the other man, the feel and smell of him is far different than mere objects.

He’d heard his peers whispering that one’s hand was nothing compared to the feel of another person, that the touch of another was incredibly more satisfying than one’s self. He honestly hadn’t believed it, how could someone feel any different than his own hands? Sure, another species perhaps he could understand that, but Paz was human like him. Except now, he thinks he finally understands.

Paz pulls away from Din and moves instead to the tight pucker he’d viewed at the start of all of this, piercing his tongue into its depths to the tune of Din’s ragged cry and accompanied by the wet sounds of his pussy as he vigorously fingers the little male.

Din honestly feels like pleasure or embarrassment is going to kill him. Because Paz is over stimulating his worn-out body with pleasure, but the embarrassment may get him if the sounds of his own wet cunt don’t kill him first. He didn’t even know it could sound like _that!_

The soft, wet churning as Paz fingers him has his pussy clenching in need but his face burns from blushing. Somehow, he finds the strength to drag his bound hands up to Paz’s hand, gripping the wrist in a poor attempt to pull him away.

“Paz, please… _gedet’ye!_ No more… I _can’t…”_

Paz pulls his hand free and turns it, grasping Din’s own with the wet fingers. He pulls his face back from the flushed hole he’s been worrying and lowers Din back to the floor on his knees.

Din squeezes the wet fingers in quiet thanks as he tries to catch his breath. His throat feels sore and a drink of water would be nice.

Paz doesn’t give him more time than that before he’s readjusting Din back into a mounting position and pressing close against him. Paz takes hold of his engorged cock and rests the head between Din’s loose folds, slowly passing it back and forth over the hole and wetting it in Din’s slick. Din tries to reach back again to push him away, but he starts to sink in.

Din chokes on a gasp and jolts forward, but Paz grabs hold of his right shoulder and leans over Din. The weight of the position forces him to sink deeper, faster and Din collapses almost entirely from the sudden shock of the feeling. While Din is in a haze Paz slams the rest of the way in, Din’s hips quake and his walls clench tight. Din himself is stuck in a wide-eyed haze and can’t even scream.

He can only hear a high-pitched ringing before reality rushes in fast, leaving him gasping for air and dizzy. Sound follows slowly and his vision is even slower. He becomes aware of Paz pressed tight on top him, his face pressed firmly into his scent gland and his breath ghosting over it. Paz is whispering fervently, it takes a minute before he figures out what he’s saying, and it has him clenching tight on the cock inside him.

_“mar’e… mar’e…”_

_At last…_

Paz presses a kiss to the gland and feels Din shiver, he pulls away and uses Din’s back to follow a path back to sitting upright. Taking hold of his hips he grinds his cock in a tight circle, listening to Din’s rushed gasp and watching the shivers travel across his muscles.

Carefully pulling back from the clenching cunt, Paz pulls almost out entirely before sliding back in. Keeping an eye on Din’s reactions for any signs of pain, but all he sees is his mates beautiful face going slack with pleasure. Pulling back again he thrusts quickly back in, Din yelps but he lifts his rear higher and his legs spread wider to stabilize himself for the next thrust.

Seeing no signs of pain, he sets up a steady pace, using Din’s hips to guide the Omega along into thrusting back onto him. The sound of their flesh meeting and Din’s drooling pussy ignites a fire inside of Paz, checking again and seeing no signs of pain on his mates face he re-positions again.

This time he puts both hands over the small of Din’s back, where the natural curve is created. He presses his weight down forcing Din to spread his legs wider to accommodate as his back curves deeper, his chest and shoulders are pressed tight to the nests floor. Din’s low groan is cut off when Paz begins a frenzied pace, pounding deep down into his cunt.

The wet sounds of his cunt are punctuated by the cries being punched out of his throat and Paz’s own feral growls. Just as Paz is sure Din can’t take any more he reaches around him, to take hold of his cock, squeezing and thumbing over the head, his other hand he slides up and presses into the little pucker and plunges deep until it finds the spongy mass of Din’s prostate.

Din’s scream is raspy and ragged, he wails and bucks and begs. His legs scramble to hold his position or pull away, stuck between painful pleasure as he’s stimulated three different ways. And then he’s coming in a hot burst of light, like an explosion that whites out the world and for several peaceful seconds or minutes he can finally relax.

As Din falls apart beneath him, Paz pulls his hand out of his mate and gives one last lingering stroke to his cock, then he’s back to pounding frantically at the little male’s pussy, seeking his own pleasure. Paz can feel his knot starting to form rapidly as Din is just starting to stir with a weak groan. He presses forward in a rough thrust and feels his knot catch, seconds before his own orgasm hits he can see Din’s eyes widen before rolling back into his head as another orgasm pummels him and then Paz is dragged down into his own.

When he finally wakes from his stupor he’s slumped over Din, who is not in a very comfortable position trapped as he is. Rising carefully to not disturb the knot, he unties Din’s arms and wrists, bringing them to the side and slowly massaging from the wrist up to his shoulder. He does this to each side and gently rotates the arm in the shoulder sockets, causing Din to wake and hiss quietly.

He rumbles reassuringly down to him and continues massaging his mates shoulders and neck. Then down along his spine and the hips. He repeats this process up and back down until the knot shrinks enough for him to pull away. Din only gives a tired groan as he finally slumps to the ground on his stomach, his back tensing and the grimace on his face suggests he’s still very sore and stiff.

Paz hurriedly gets back to massaging his mate, this time he’s able to travel further past his hips and kneads his buttocks down into his thighs and calves and his feet. He works his way back up and continues this process for some minutes, even using his weight and elbows to firmly press down on some particularly stubborn knots in his mates back. Din of course whines and hisses but he’s too sore to move and is forced to let Paz bully the tightness into submission. When its done Paz begins slowly traveling his hands along Din’s spine, pressing gently but firmly until satisfying pops can be heard.

Din melts and purrs with the attention. By the time Paz is done and pressing a water sack to his mouth, Din is feels like melted butter and limp as a noodle. He couldn’t move if Tuskan Raiders suddenly showed up. He should be worried about that, but he feels too good to care. His Alpha just took damn good care of him and pampered him after too. That leaves a deep, rumbling purr of satisfaction floating up from his chest and it’s answered by Paz’s own pleased rumble.

Paz can smell the scent of a satisfied Omega. And Din smells well fucked and content. It is a pleasing scent and an Alpha’s reward for a job well done.

Paz lays down in front of Din, after having cleaned them both he layers blankets around them, and Din tilts his head in a way that suggests he wants to be scented. Paz leans over and they both purr as their scent mingles. He pulls Din carefully closer and rests the Omegas neck on his bicep and Din curls into him with a tired purr. Dropping his free hand to Din’s hip they snuggle in closer breathing one another in until the only sound left is the fire crackling and the roar of the waterfall outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Udesiir - relax  
> cyar'ika - sweetheart  
> Osi'kyr! - a strong exclamation of surprise or dismay. In this case, surprise.  
> Ori'haat - "It's true, I swear."  
> Rangir - "To hell with it!"  
> ner kar'taylir darasuum - my love (ner is the word for "my" and kar'taylir darasuum is "love")  
> K'urr - "Hush"  
> gedet'ye - please  
> Nayc - no  
> k'olar! - "Come here!"  
> jii - now  
> N'epar nu pirur! - "It can wait - no rush." literally it means "It won't eat or drink anything."  
> yaim - home  
> Mar'e - "At last!" expression of relief
> 
> You guys spoil me with your comments 😊 This is the first time I've written a sex scene so I hope it passes muster. That would suck if it bombed after all the hype. It's not the only sexy chapter though, you can look forward to at least two more.
> 
> Also, I just realized something I can’t un-think now: Din, Disney. DIN, DIsNey… Goddammit.


	8. K’oyacy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back lol
> 
> K'oyacy! - Hang in there!
> 
> BTWs see something you'd like to use? Like the world building or an OC character? Just credit me and the story "In Honor" <3

Quiet is the first thing to come, followed by a sense of warmth and the sharp smell of water and damp, the rush of cascading water. The rumble of its free fall. A slow rise and fall of steady breathing, tangle of sore limbs and a not unpleasant ache in places not previously explored.

All these things are a slow trickle of conscience thought, creeping with rising clarity in Din’s awareness. He’s pulled inexorably up into the waking world of the living, when all he wants is to bask in the pleasant nothing of sleep. Eyes shut, Din slowly flexes his body from his shoulders down to his toes. The pleasant drag of sleep heavy limbs further highlights his want to return to full unconsciousness. His shoulders are a bit slow to respond to the continued roll of his stretching, his hips down to his upper thighs pull and twitch in a way that isn’t painful but not entirely comfortable.

Flexing his fingers one digit at a time down to the heel of his palm is equally cumbersome, but they loosen the more he flexes them, twisting his wrists in circles. Once satisfied everything is accounted for and still functioning, Din drags his eyes open through knitted lashes to view a blurred and muted world. Blinking the tacky feeling of shut eyes away encourages his vision to fade back to normal. Breathing a heavy sigh through his nose, Din unhurriedly tilts his neck so he can turn his face up to wander his gaze from Paz’ arm, shoulder, neck and along his face.

Paz is thoroughly still asleep, his steady breathing and open posture indicative of a good rest. His frame is backlit by the little light that seeps through the open spaces not entirely covered by the cave and the space that is loose where a sheet hangs over the opening. The light catches on his left ear turning it a vibrant orange-red through the skin. The same light falls through parts of his beard, turning the dark hairs into a warm amber brown where the light touches.

Din slowly pushes himself up on to his left elbow, using his right hand to balance. His shoulders don’t like the new position but it’s tolerable. Pulling himself upward puts him in line with Paz’ face and he’s better able to gaze down on the other man. It’s for the first time he notices they’re both still nude, the blankets pushed around by the two of them in their sleep. He takes a moment to really examine how much larger Paz is; his pectorals and shoulders act as a focal point to the eye, drawing the gaze to large muscle groups along his arms and abdomen. A hard-flat stomach leads to an incredibly defined Adonis belt, the sharp V dragging the eyes further to parts hidden beneath the blanket.

Din’s eyes linger on the sharp V and his insides clench with a pleasant pulse, the memory of strong thrusts and the thought of that defined V pressed against his backside or between his legs does, something to him. He’d never thought of any other person in that manner. Strange, that a particular part of someone could cause a physical reaction within himself.

Before he’s even aware of it, he’s tracing a finger along the shape. First from the right hip down to where the blanket impedes his vision, he could just push past it but he’s running his finger back up the same path as Paz’s breathing changes a bit. Peering up through his lashes he finds Paz still asleep and continues his fingers journey along the hip and up along thick planes of abdominal hillscape, journeying further towards looming pectoral mountains and gliding along the path of corded neck muscles to rest along a sculpted jaw. Rubbing his thumb through beard while tracing his jaw, Paz tilts his head and a huff of breath precedes his hand cupping Din’s wrist as he opens his eyes.

Clouded grey eyes slowly blink open to take in Din hovering above, his own darker skin made warmer by the light kissing his face, making dark hair into a warm chocolate. For the first time Din can see Paz’s face and his eyes, much better than yesterday even in the muted shadow of the den. His eyes are not just grey, but flecked through with green and hints of blue, like a grey sea day crashing against verdant lands. Their enthralling to look at, like being called to drown in them.

Paz sedately smiles up at the handsome vison above him and Din quietly smiles in return as Paz wraps one large hand around the back of his neck to play with the soft curls. The explosion of hot light is unexpected when he moves to resettle himself under the small male. The roar of sound and sensation less so as it all floods in.

**_“HAAR’CHAK!”_ **

“ _K’atini._ It’s nothing compared to what you did to me.” He pauses to watch Paz clutch his eye only to hiss and growl when the contact stings, “In fact it’s hardly equivalent. I should break your nose too.”

“You’re the most _insufferable_ \- I didn’t break your nose or give you a black eye. _Equivalent my-_ ”

“No, you just tied me up like chattel and left me outside for hours.”

“It wasn’t that long and you-”

“Not to mention you left me outside, exposed for just anyone to come along.”

“You weren’t exposed, I covered you-”

“You _left_ me _outside_ in the _OPEN AIR! In a place completely open to attack. That is EXPOSED in my book._ ”

Paz sighs heavily and drops his hand from his face, “Fine, fine. What would you have preferred I done?”

“Are you kidding, Paz? You could have asked me to stay.”

Paz snorts incredulously, “ _Right,_ that’ll be the day. Din Djarin not only _listening_ but _doing anything_ Paz Vizla asks. Try again, cyare.”

“I would have stayed if you’d asked!”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Paz laughs, he brings his arms to loop around Din and pull him on top. “You know damn well you’d have taken off the second I turned my back.”

“Not very trusting of you, Vizla.”

“Oh, I trust you Din. I trust you to be cunning enough to get away. I trust you to _punch me_ when I least expect it, even if it’s not a physical punch. You have habits, cyare.”

“Are you saying I’m predictable?”

“I’m saying you’re _mandokar._ And I’m saying I’d be a fool to think otherwise. _Mando’ad draar digu._ ”

They fall quiet, contemplating one another. Paz takes the time to caress up Dins back to rest his hand around the back of Din’s neck again, rubbing the soft hair between his fingers. Din meanwhile is a bit confused and muddling through his thoughts.

How can Paz call him a coward one day and now claim that Din has what it takes to be Mando? But he is right about one thing, _Mando’ad draar digu._ A Mandalorian never forgets. So, what the hell does Paz want?

“How’s your shoulders?”

It takes a moment to switch from his thoughts to reality, and by then Paz has repeated the question again. Blinking for a second more Din carefully rolls his shoulders. Feeling all the sensations and cataloging them in his mind for assessment.

“A bit stiff, minor soreness. Why?’

Paz frowns for a second before dropping his hand back to Din’s lower back and he turns them, urging Din to lay flat. He hovers over Din as he repositions himself to straddle the smaller males’ waist and for a second Din wonders if Paz is gonna get revenge for his eye.

Large hands descend onto his pectorals, pressing and rotating firmly. Din grunts and stiffens under the attention, “I need you to relax, or it’ll take longer. Just breathe through it.” Din harrumphs but allows himself to unwind.

The attention he received the night before is now given to his front, Paz takes his time methodically going over every muscle in his chest and along his neck and shoulders. His arms are given attention and carefully rotated again, this time forward instead of back. That alone sends a minor flare through the muscles and Din has to breathe through the pain that wasn’t there before. But once he’s finally relaxed and breathing steadily Paz moves back down past his chest to massage his abdominals working towards his hips.

Din’s body is healthy and well-sculpted like Paz, as all Mandalorian’s are. He’s not as big as Paz in height nor mass, but his body is crafted to suit his proportions and his work. His muscles are just as sculpted by training, but where Paz needs the mass for his duties as a heavy infantryman, Din needs mobility and flexibility. Din is speed and cunning, like a black panther he slinks along with a fierce quiet. His presence only felt when he wants you to feel it. Paz is like a tiger, he can mask himself like his smaller counterpart, but his power lies in his intimidating size. Similar but entirely different, no less majestic.

Paz encourages Din to roll over and repeats the massage from the night before. Once again Din is little more than a loose pile of goo and he breathes a sigh of relief when Paz finishes by cracking his back.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Vizla family secret. We have magic hands.”

They both snort and chuckle, “Yeah, I think I am well acquainted with your _magic_ hands.”

“You know a bit.”

Din hums as Paz leans down to press a kiss between his shoulders, kissing his way up to Din’s face. He places one last kiss over his ear, “Cramping?”

Din grunts, “No, not that I’ve noticed.”

“Good. Means the tea is wearing off. You seemed to be having trouble with it.”

Paz gets up and leaves the nest to rummage through their bags.

“I did… Is that normal?”

“Depends. The tea is like a medicine, it has an intended purpose with common effects. Not everyone will react the same way or at all. It brings an unnatural heat on to allow the scent glands to secrete more and make the body receptive. It typically spurs on a natural heat a period of time after consumption.”

Din hummed as Paz continued, “My understanding is that the heat is brought about to purge any lingering effects the tea may have. It’s like having a fever, the bodies response to detoxing itself.”

Turning back to find Din sitting upright he climbs back into the nest with a water sack and rations. They sit quietly sharing the water and eating their boring rations.

“The two I shared previous heats with reacted differently. Jhia didn’t react at all, the tea had no effect on her. Ka on the other hand, she had it bad. She suffered a mild allergic reaction to the tea, mild enough no one knew at the time, but it made her first Trials a taxing one.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not, but the good news is after this Trial you can opt out of the tea next time. Only first timers get the tea.”

“Does anyone ever opt back in?”

Paz turns to Din, “I feel like you should know this already, but you’re the only Omega in your clan. So, I guess that makes sense.”

Din shrugs turning back to his ration, “No one to ask.”

“The clan, other Omegas. The Matriarch.”

Din just shoves more of his ration into his mouth and Paz frowns watching him a moment more before sighing.

“Anyway, lots of others opt into the tea. They like the effects it has on the first mating; heightened arousal, sensitivity, and even less preparation needed.”

“I can’t imagine anyone enjoying that. The taste was great but, I didn’t feel like myself. All the sloppy work I did and getting caught so soon is proof of that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You lot found me in ten hours! I must have been leaving a trail of neon slick behind me…”

Paz snorts around a mouthful of water, “I’d hardly call twenty-six hours anything to shrug about. Honestly started thinking you’d be unfound.”

The tense silence pricks at Paz’ nerves and he looks up to find Din boring holes into his head.

“What, now?”

“Twenty-six hours? It was ten, Vizla.”

“No, it was twenty-six.”

“Paz, stop it. It was ten hours tops, maybe eleven.”

“Din I’m telling you it was far longer. You were even outside the scout zone.”

“No,” Din’s eyes stare down his remaining ration “It had to be ten hours, and I was inside the zone. I know I was.”

“We’re inside the zone _now_ , this cave I mean. You left false trails all over the place, I followed four at the least. Came across Jaral and Khamrah’s den before finding you. I even caught Llix and Xil’s scents before you. Not to mention a few fights over scent trails, the others weren’t so keen on sharing the hunt.”

Paz chuckled thinking back on his fellow Alphas and their territorial fights over Din’s scent trails, they _really_ horded the trails they found, not wanting another Alpha tagging along. Especially if the trail turned out to be the right one. Paz had had to run off a few himself.

The confusion and heavy concentration on Din’s face is as adorable as it is fascinating, watching the skilled Mando work his way backwards as much as he could to discern the truth of Paz’ words.

“It’s the planet.” He decides to alleviate Din’s confusion, “Something about the mist layers makes it difficult to tell time accurately. It can be pitch black of night but on the ground, things look bright as day, it takes about sixteen hours before the night cycle finally seems to catch up down beneath the mists and finally darken the area. Although that’s not entirely accurate either, it’s one of the things we’re still charting.”

“Okay, but… I don’t remember making false trails. I covered my trail yeah, but not false ones.”

“Trust me, you were infuriatingly thorough. A few of the trails even lead to areas that seemed like perfect nest sites, only to find you not there. Some even double backed on themselves or crossed with others. I don’t know how you managed it within the time allotted.”

“I honestly have no memory of that.”

Din’s worried face gives Paz pause and he sighs before scooting closer to the other, “It’s not so unusual. Lethargy, drowsiness and confusion are common side effects with the tea. It could be that your instincts combined with the effects of the tea and your training may have caused some memory lapse, your body might have been working while your mind was occupied. I can’t tell you for certain, but that may be the reason. I have only heard of similar effects by way of mouth.”

Din sits quietly for a moment more before a look of serious determination crosses his features and he nods firmly. “Okay, so it’s not a bad sign or anything.”

It’s not a question but Paz nods and Din’s shoulders relax, causing Paz to lean close and press a kiss to the top of the closest one. Din turns his head to look at him and their eyes meet, holding his gaze looking for something only Din is searching for. He seems to find it and leans against him.

“So, what exactly were you hoping to get out of this?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Like, what?”

Din shifts and turns his face up to him, “Like, were you just hoping for a good fight or were you just wanting to hold the fact that you had my first heat over my head?”

“Din, what…No. Didn’t we already go over this?”

It’s hard to tell but Paz sounds truly exasperated and maybe, upset? That can’t be right, unless he’s somehow upset that Din would question him at all. Which is stupid.

“Well, then I’m obviously not satisfied with the answer. So, tell me again anyway.”

Paz grumbles something under his breath that Din imagines must not be flattering and shifts about until he’s comfortable. He turns to look down at Din and his face is one of discontent, but it smooths out.

“Fine, okay. Look, Din… fuck, how do I put this? You…”

Din stares up at the large fumbling male, this is completely unlike the man he knows. The swaggering braggart with a million things to say that really say a lot of nothing.

_What is happening right now?_

Paz inhales deep and lets the breath out slow. “Okay. Din, I…” the moment is tense for a second as Paz’s brows furrow, “here’s the thing. I don’t know when it started or even really why, but I know that at some point in my life I started watching you.”

Din raises an eyebrow and his eyes look left then right before settling back on Paz’s face, he’s clearly lost.

“Little things at first. You’d come back from a hunt and I’d watch you walk in and walk away. The way you moved, how your previous gear settled on your body. The way you carried yourself. Something changed about you and I don’t know when it happened, or why I never saw it before. Just, you were different. And something… I don’t know, _copyc._ ”

_“Me’ven?”_

Paz brings a hand up to cover Din’s mouth, “Wait, alright? I need to say this.”

Din nods slowly as Paz retracts his hand to rest on his shoulder, this feels like it’s somehow significant. He’s almost afraid to let Paz keep talking, but he also wants to hear this. It’s not every day one’s rival makes a fool of themselves for you.

“I used to sit and listen to you talk. At some point I came to crave your voice,” Din jerks with surprise “you have this quiet tone that somehow conveys this… It’s commanding in a way, when you speak. Your voice is rich, and I fell in love with it.”

Paz looks toward the ceiling, seeing something only he can. “I used to wait to hear your voice again. I’m not sure when I started doing that, but I found myself always waiting to hear of your arrival. I would keep track of the days leading to your scheduled arrivals and the more I waited, the more I wanted. Seeing you and hearing you suddenly weren’t enough, I needed to smell you. I kept trying to catch your scent went you went by or lingered anywhere. You haunted my waking hours and then you were in my dreams.”

“At first your presence was simply noted, but like everything else your presence kept growing. You’d remove your helmet, but I’d never see your face, it was always blurry and indistinct. And then I stopped seeing you.” Din studies Paz, not quite sure if he’s hearing all of this right.

“I’d be in my room, or a den that felt like home and your voice would be in the background. I never saw you no matter how much I wanted to turn around, I was always doing something that kept me occupied while you did whatever you were doing. But you’d be talking, normal everyday things. Life things, couple things. Once, I was helping a small child into their clothes and you were laughing about something one of our kids was doing.”

Din can’t help but be shocked further, _kids?_

“I don’t remember what you were saying but I just loved hearing you talk and laugh. The adiik was squirming while I was trying to dress them, I never saw their face either. I could hear other children, at least one other little voice I didn’t recognize. I think it was perhaps another of our kids, the other voices were my children. The dreams were nightly things, always your voice in the background with the children, and me constantly trying to turn to face you.”

“When I woke, I’d expect to find you lying next to me. But you weren’t. And I missed you more than I had before. When the Trials came about, and I realized you’d be having your first Trial, I knew I had to try. Not for your heat, not to hunt you down and fight you. For you, I had to try for you.”

Din’s heart stopped some time ago and he’s not that certain if he can get it going again. Even his free fall at this man’s hands hadn’t stopped his heart like this. Wide eyed he looks up at Paz and their eyes meet.

“Paz…”

He leans down and rests their foreheads together, “It is _your_ choice, Din. If all I get is to spend this one heat with you, then I will content myself with it. I will hold it in my heart forever. But if you would let me, I would be your bond mate.”

Paz places a gentle kiss on his lips and pulls away to look at him. The air feels thin or has been thin within his chest. Blood seems to be rushing to his head making his skin feel tight, like a sonic shower. And the world seems like it did when he first woke, blurred beyond first viewing and Paz is the only thing in focus and he’s backlit by the light.

“I can’t… I can’t give you an answer. I don’t feel the same way you do.”

He instantly doesn’t want to hurt Paz, not really. It’s against their way to attack another who is not an enemy, not that clans haven’t turned on one another before but he’s never felt the need to _really_ hurt Paz or anyone in the clan.

He knows if he were raised anywhere else, with anyone else in the galaxy, his refusal of the large Alpha would be taken for an insult. Other Alpha’s would kill an Omega for less offenses than turning down a bond proposal.

And _stars_ , that’s what it was wasn’t it? A bond proposal. Paz Vizla asking to marry him. _Wanted_ to marry him. _HIM._ Because of some dreams? Because he had a nice voice, because he didn’t know his scent? Because he’d never seen Din’s face?

Because, he wanted all those things? To be family in more than clan name and traditions, to know Din’s face in the intimacy of a familial bond?

Din is barely getting accustomed to the role of buir to one child, and damn but Vizla has two children of his own! This wouldn’t just be one more person within the small circle of his life like the little one, this would be three new people. In his life, his home, who knew his face.

It all feels like too much, buzzing about his brain like the sonic shower buzzes over his skin. It’s a lot to take in, the sensation clashing with _everything._

“You… have children of your own right?”

Paz is taken aback by the sudden question and suddenly Din is hoping he’ll take the distraction and steer away from this topic.

Something in Paz’s eyes changes to sadness, perhaps. But it shifts again before Din can really read it and he gentle’s his features.

“Yes, four of my own.”

“Four? I thought you only had the two?”

_Not three possible people, but **five**!_

Paz makes a _tsk_ sort of noise, “This is what happens when you’re gone too long from the clan.”

Din grumbles at him and Paz leans back before sitting upright.

“I’ll tell you more while we relax in the bath.”

“What bath?”

Paz only nods over his shoulder and Din turns around to find a raised mound, looking at Paz questioningly he stands to go and see better. Leaving the nest and crossing to one of the walls Din finds that the raised mound is in fact another hollowed out space like the nest, but it’s deeper. It’s already filled with roiling water; he thought the moisture in the air had been from the cave and the heat from the fire. But he finds that Paz has engineered a clever method of using their firepit to heat the bath from underneath.

The space is lined with left over barrier material, each of the participants are given a barrier in case an Omega or Alpha loses one, the other participant can make up for its loss. The barrier’s cloth is also great for survival purposes, able to be remade into water retainers, moisture trappers and a variety of other possible needs. Paz has used their spare to cut it to fit as a tub lining, turning it in such a way that the tunnel he’s built from the fire to the tub acts as a heat vent, and the barrier into a heat reflector. Ultimately generating the necessary heat to both trap and heat the water.

Din can’t help but be impressed and there is even a path dug out for the water to be released away from the den and fire.

“When did you have the time for this?”

“Not long after you fell asleep last night.”

“And the water?”

“Same, filled it from the falls not far from here. It was going to take a while to heat anyway, so I filled it near to the top and figured a fair bit would have evaporated by the time we woke. Looks like I was right, but it appears that enough is still left for us to relax.”

Din is honestly stunned for words and a little bit ashamed? Or maybe not ashamed but he feels a bit bad for turning Paz down, after he’s done so much. But it’s nice, all the forethought. Only buir has ever thought this much or done this much for him.

_Would buir approve of Paz?_

“Come on,” Paz gently takes his elbow and steps into the tub and pulls Din with him, “I’m sure it feels better than it looks.” He says with a smirk.

Din smiles and lets Paz pull them into the water and its already heaven on his feet and calves. Paz turns him so his back is to Paz’ chest and they sink down into the water. He can’t help but release a hiss as his body slips into the roiling heat, he almost pulls away if not for Paz already sitting within and pulling him down by his hips.

The heat stings a bit against his tender nether region and honestly, he’s not so sure how water isn’t rushing into his holes. He didn’t notice how loose he felt, it didn’t feel that way until he’d started getting into the water. It’s probably his imagination but it doesn’t stop him from blushing and huffing a sigh when he finally sits down and leans back into Paz.

Silence consumes them once more as they both take the time to soak in the comforting sting of hot water melting the tension of tight muscles. Din closes his eyes and relaxes back against Paz, his fingers twitching in a massage over the big males’ hands resting on his stomach.

The quiet breathing, crackling sound of fire and logs popping, the quiet churn of heated water juxtaposed to the sound of the falls. It’s all so soothing and Din could live in this moment forever. It’s so nice.

But doubt begins to slowly pull at him, and guilt eats at his stomach. How can he just take this kindness and not pay Paz back? Immediately he’s frustrated with himself, feeling personally betrayed by his thoughts for going against all his long-held convictions. He’s his own person dammit! A massage, good fuck and a bath is not enough to sell himself for. He’s not _selling_ himself period. And even if he was, he’d be worth far more than that.

Paz’s hands come up to massage along his shoulders and press firmly along his neck which has tipped down toward his chest with his thoughts. He presses his strong fingers into the vertebrae along his neck and it feels incredible.

“You asked about my ade. I used to have just the two, you do remember Xoeth and Khal?”

“Yes, I remember them.”

“Good, they’d be upset if you didn’t.” Din blinks at that, “The little ones in the clan like you a lot. You’re quiet and far more interesting than the rest of us, they constantly pretend to be you on your hunts. They’ve all made a game of being you, taking turns being _beroya._ Chasing one another about to capture their bounties.” Paz’s laugh is good natured and fond, and Din is himself privately amused and amazed the clans ade are so fascinated with him.

“Anyway, Xoeth is nine years old now and Khal is seven. You might recall that Ka and Jhia are their respective mothers.”

“Ka is bonded to Zerr, right?”

“She is, they have twins of their own. Grel and Norai, their six. About two years back, while you were gone on some bounty or another, I took in two Foundlings.”

“I never heard of this.”

Paz flicks water toward Din, “That’s because you don’t stay long enough, cyare. I found them on Nevarro. I was doing a check during the day cycle and found a young boy sneaking off with one of our crates of supplies. I don’t know how he found it, but he was making good effort for such a scrawny thing. Instead of revealing myself I followed him, not hard to do. I watched him drag the crate into one of the housing units, the ones near the red-light district?”

Din thinks about it a moment, going over in his head the layout of the town before nodding.

“The door was laying on the ground with only a blanket barely hanging on for cover. When I peeked inside, he was trying to get a small toddler to eat. The little one had his head resting on the head of a dead woman.”

Din froze and half turned to face Paz, “What?”

Paz nods at the breathless exclamation, “I entered the building to confront him, and the little Alpha got quite angry. Threw things at me and cursed me. I thought maybe they were related, and the woman was both their mother. It took some time, but I managed to convince him I wasn’t there to hurt anyone and had followed him when he took our crate. I got him to tell me his name and what happened. Turns out, Trath had found the little one when he was running about in the night cycle looking for food.”

“Apparently, some years ago, slavers lost track of him while they were stopped in Nevarro, he got away from them somehow and had been hiding since. A few years at least, he wasn’t much older than the toddler then.”

Paz takes a deep breath and pulls Din back to his chest; the position has Din sitting sideways against him now.

“Trath overheard a lot of noise and screaming from the unit. The other people in the area just shut themselves back in their own homes and ignored everything. Trath went to peek into the window and saw several men beating the woman. Apparently, she was one of the Omega prostitutes and fairly new to the area, Trath heard them yelling at her for the boy. When she refused them they beat her to death. He hid while they ransacked the place and left. When he was sure they were gone he went in to see if he could find food or anything valuable.”

“What he found was a little boy, small enough to be hidden in one of the lower cabinets. When I checked it out myself, I found he meant the small cellar used for root veg. Probably the only reason they didn’t think to look for him there. He pulled the little one out and he crawled over to his mother and tried to wake her. When she didn’t wake, he just laid his head on top of hers and kept petting her hair, Trath couldn’t pull him away. He had planned to leave him but kept coming back and fed him bits of water and whatever food he could.”

“That was two weeks prior to me finding them. The little one hadn’t moved once from that spot. Trath had been keeping them both going like that but the little one was still losing weight from how little he was eating. It wouldn’t have been much longer before he perished.”

Clearing his throat Paz continued, “I checked the unit and found documents with the babes name on it. His name was Caz Krykky and some searching showed me his mother was a runaway slave. Don’t know how she got so far, let alone pregnant. So, two runaway slaves. I wasn’t about to hand over a babe to slavery, so I made my vow right then. And he was mine. I managed to coax him from her body, he was covered in two weeks’ worth of filth and his mother’s blood. I gathered all the documents and anything suggesting his existence, then the crate and left.”

“Trath followed along, he had developed a sibling bond to Caz, so I didn’t have to convince him to follow. After getting them back to the clan and announcing them both for my own, two clan members went to gather Caz’ mother’s body and I looked for information on Trath. As far as anyone can tell, he doesn’t even exist. We could find no record of him anywhere, not even a blood sample got us anything. It was decided that he would be mine fully. It’s taken time for Trath to settle more than Caz who was little more than a babe, but they’re both happier. Caz is four now and has no memory of the events, at first, he had nightmares about someone he called the red lady, after listening to his nightmares I figured out he was dreaming about his mother’s death. He doesn’t remember anything now though, and no red lady either.”

“And Trath?”

“Trath is eight and settling in slowly, he’s better than before. He reminds me of you a lot. Quiet but fierce, probably doesn’t help that he admires you more than anyone.” Paz smiles fondly thinking of his quiet boy, “He really reminds me of you when you were little and Tharr first brought you to the clan. Your buir has been very helpful by the way. Before you showed up, Trath had taken to shadowing your buir around.”

“My buir, really?”

“Most of the kids have no memory of Tharr so we had to explain who he was. Once Trath learned he was your buir, he’s been observing him. Tharr knows it of course and I think he’s amused by the whole thing. He hasn’t run him off or anything.”

“Buir wouldn’t do that, he’s a tough man but he’s fond of kids.”

“Especially the quiet ones,” Paz smiles at Din “I am grateful he’s kind to Trath. It’s good encouragement for him, he doesn’t interact much with others outside of the other ade and me. Not that anyone has been unkind to him, but a child with those traumas doesn’t trust easily. Especially adults.”

“Those traumas? You don’t have to answer, and I almost don’t want to ask but, was he sexually abused?”

Paz’s frown deepens and a dark look of anger shadows his face, “He hasn’t said so and the medics have not been able to examine him enough to determine if any scarring exists, _inside._ No diseases thankfully. He hasn’t said anything himself, but sometimes what he doesn’t say is enough. Since you’ll likely be home longer now, you should know not to sneak up on him or touch him without either broadcasting your intent or not touch him at all. He is understandably repelled by touch from most people.”

Din nods seriously, he’ll need to be reintroduced to all the little one’s so he can make sure to avoid accidentally triggering any of them. He can easily recall being entirely focused on Tharr in his early years and other adults were never good enough to be trusted outside his buir, and he didn’t even go through what Trath might have. But he does know it’s not easy trying to be normal even when it’s all you want.

Paz is sitting tense behind him, lost in his own dark thoughts no doubt and Din feels bad for bringing up such a sensitive topic.

“It’s weird for me still. Being a buir, I mean. I haven’t taken the vow yet but, after the Trials are over, I am going to announce my vow before the clan.”

Smiling warmly Paz presses a kiss to his forehead, “That’s good. Your little one is cute and the other ade are looking forward to playing with them. Caz and Ria will have someone closer to their age and size.”

Din laughs, “My child is the eldest of them all.”

“Oh?”

“Fifty years old.”

Paz stares at him for a long time, “ _Uh_ …”

“I know. The species may be one that is long lived, not even talking yet. At least I haven’t heard him attempt to talk. I don’t even know if he is even male. I hadn’t noticed any physical signs of gender while bathing, and no notable secondary traits to speak of.”

“Plenty of species don’t have alphas and omegas, or betas. Don’t suppose the little one could originate from an asexual species perhaps?”

“You mean like they reproduce without a partner? I’m not sure. Anything is possible at this point.”

“Well, I hope you name the poor ad’ika. You can’t just go around calling it nothing for the rest of its life.”

“I hadn’t even thought of a name, what would I even call them?”

“You’re their buir, that’s up to you. Or you could ask Tharr to provide a name, some clans would let the eldest family member name the first grandchild.”

Din nods slowly, his mind swirling with all the naming possibilities. Paz is right he can’t just go about referring to the kid without a name, he doesn’t know what species the little one comes from and how their naming conventions might work. Let alone how that species defines gender. If at all. It’s turning into yet another convoluted factoid surrounding his child and he finds himself shoving it into a category in his brain marked ‘some other time – the kid edition.’

Thank goodness for Mandalorian names, they are all appealingly gender neutral. Although it does mean there are a great many from which to choose. Naming a child of any kind was never on his radar, he’d never been the type to imagine having a child, never mind naming it.

The soft tapping of a large hand on the outside of thigh signals him to look at Paz, “While you’re think of that let’s get out and dressed. We’ll need to hunt if we wanna eat, because I am not going to eat another one of these blasted rations if I can help it. Lets’ gear up and collect what we need to hunt with.”

“That sounds good. There should be plenty of material around to craft spears and extra rope.”

Rising together, Din goes to slip on his clothes, as Paz leans over to release the hatch he made for the water to drain out and begins to dress himself. Once they are both properly geared up, they grab their hunting knives and leave the den, moving about on their own to gather up stiff vine-like branches and more malleable vines. Coming together they determine they can craft spears from the dried vines and pulling apart the others reveals the vines can be shredded into weave able fibers for rope making. Din sets about the spear making and placing them into the fire to harden after testing one to insure it wouldn’t burn and Paz commits to the task of making ropes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Child has yet to get a name and it's driving me mad! They seriously need a name and I am officially going to name them with your help. Project: Give Din's Child A Mando Name! is a go!!   
> It makes sense that names would be gender neutral or unisex (with exception to those Foundlings whose names follow the conventions of their original people). So I have taken the Mando name generator and selected names from both the male and female side that just sound good IMO. I'm gonna mix them around, tell me what you like: Vas, Jae, Saez, Larak or Jaigr
> 
> Mando'a words from mandoa.org  
> \-----------------------------  
> Haar'chak - Damn it!  
> K'atini - "Suck it up!" or "It's only pain!"  
> cyare - Beloved, loved, popular  
> Mandokar - "the right stuff" the epitome of Mando virtue  
> Mando'ad draar digu - "A Mandalorian never forgets."  
> copyc - attractive  
> Me'ven? - "Huh?" "What?" expression of bewilderment or disbelief  
> adiik- child ages 3 -13 years  
> ade - children, sons, daughters  
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> ad'ika - Little One (of any age group), also "guys" when used informally with adults.   
>  *For plural "Little One's" use adike


	9. Manda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains hunting and the killing of an animal, it’s not graphic but you’re warned anyway. I wanna add more but it would ruin it for others reading, so if topics of animal hunting or the consumption of animal meat is triggery for you, just stay away. Don’t read it.

Learning to track together on this new planet proved to be exhilarating and just a bit frustrating. Din loved every second of it and Paz certainly was enjoying it. After their gear had been readied, they had set out immediately, carrying their hunting tools, two water skins and two ration packs each. To get down from their hidden den, Paz had to carry Din down. Something he hadn’t been entirely thrilled with but allowed all the same. Arguing over it would have just cost valuable time and daylight. However long it seemed to last.

Excitedly Paz had told him of a rare and exotic creature called the d’uul. A medium sized jaguar like creature with sharp scales and the neck and head of a horse but with razor sharp teeth and four protruding tusks. Din had heard of the creatures before, they existed on farmlands on other planets. They were highly prized by the exceptionally wealthy for the incredible marbling of their meat, said to be so buttery soft that it melted in the mouth. But the truly shocking aspect of the d’uul was that they could be eaten raw. They were the only creature registered to the known galaxy as being fit for consumption regardless of preparation. They seemed to lack any diseases or germs that might otherwise makes any species ill.

As a result, they had been hunted and farmed and sold only to the highest bidder. No one even knew where the creatures came from originally, having been sourced by a trader who had been killed during a random Imperial attack many years back. The ultra-wealthy and politically inclined often purchased these creatures as the main courses to a meal, especially where concerning political bodies might be more inclined to raw dietary habits. It was a safe way to indulge one’s political or business peers’ cultural habits without fear of falling ill.

The clan couldn’t be certain, but it seemed that the d’uul wandered wild here on this planet. Scouting missions had thus far shown their closest neighbors to be either vegetarians or uninclined to the practice of husbandry. Which suggested that the d’uul on this planet were in fact wild and not a roaming farmers herd.

They had been following the pack for some time now, watching their movements. The group was rather sizable, the individuals numbered in the twenties. They were healthy and one felled member would not go amiss or significantly damage future chances of breeding or predation defense. They were gathered about a water hole and the little ones were prancing about and nipping one another.

Paz and Din had set themselves up behind the group, hidden among the twisting vine structure of the trees and low hanging canopy. They were studying the pack and its movements, quietly discussing possible methods of attack. So far, the pack seemed fully sure of its lack of predators, maybe they had none naturally here?

They sat and observed the group some more, determining if a direct assault on one member was possible or if they should instead lay a rope trap down below and have one of them flush the group towards it from the opposite direction. Din set their spears within easy reach of them both and slowly dropped into a flat-footed squat before moving cautiously forward to lean further out to observe the more obscure pack members.

Paz watched the small bounty hunter as he moved and found himself fully aroused by the sight. Din was every bit a stealthy assassin as he was a graceful hunter. The curve of his back as he moved with methodical precision, his pants falling around the firm curvature of his buttocks. Powerful thighs he now knew the feel of, supported the steady grace as Din slowly dropped his chest down to the vine he was balanced on, leaving his rear upturned as he paused when one of the d’uul seemed about to turn their way.

Just as Din relaxed as the creature instead paced in an opposite direction, Paz could take it no longer. Moving silently and swiftly, he reached out and snagged the other around his waist and pulled him up. He felt Din jump under the touch and tense, he relaxed as Paz pulled him upward but turned his head to look over his shoulder when he was not pulled to a full standing position.

_“What’s wrong?”_

Paz shook his head at the whispered words and could feel the others confusion when he brought his free hand up, index finger extended to his helmet, _sshh._

Din moved to rise further but Paz dropped his free hand to his back and pushed down, leaving Din standing with his legs pressed against Paz and his back and upper half leaning straight out. Paz reached down and began to loosen Din’s lower gear enough to slip his pants free. Din shifted and kept glancing between Paz and the pack they were hunting. Still there, no signs of leaving yet.

_“Is now really the time?”_

_“It is.”_

Din snickers quietly, helm shaking left and right.

_“You’d better be quick then. No knot.”_

Paz rumbles as Din presses back against him to spurn him on. Quickly shifting until his own gear and pants are loose enough to pull himself out, he’s greeted with the options of his mates two slick holes. Both exceptionally tempting, but Din said no knot. That really only leaves the tempting space between his mates’ firm cheeks.

Pulling them apart he’s graced with the winking orifice, shiny with slick. And clenching down on nothing.

_“Poor thing,”_ he whispers to Din, who turns his head to the sound of his voice, _“all alone with nothing to occupy it.”_ He scrapes his gloved thumb over it, watching it react and Din’s cheeks flex.

_“Perhaps-”_

_“Perhaps, you should stop talking and start doing. Unless you suddenly can’t get it up, old man.”_

The accusation is as startling as it is arousing in its challenge, and Paz can barely control the growl that wants to rip from his throat. Instead managing to turn it into a vibrating sensation in his chest that Din feels as Paz leans over to whisper,

_“Behave yourself mesh’la, can’t have you getting in over your head.”_

Din is aware of the pack clustering together, they might be preparing to move on.

_“So, help me Vizla, if you don’t move-”_

The rest is cut off with a sharp intake of breath as Paz begins to slowly push into the tight space, slick forced out in a slow trickle around the invading shaft. Bit by bit the thick shaft sinks inside, and Din can’t help the slightly strained purr even as he watches the d’uul pack forming into a wall around their young.

Paz drops his hands down to firmly grasp hold of Din’s hips once he’s fully seated within him, he takes a moment to savor the feeling of tight walls flexing around him, they pull so tight it feels like Din is literally trying to squeeze his cock off. Distantly he thinks that wouldn’t be so bad. He’d laugh at any one whose cock was ripped off inside their bedmate and it brings a wavering chuckle out of him.

Din turns at the noise and Paz shakes his head; Din just huffs before squeezing tighter. The little shit actually _pulls_ himself forward and shakes his hips, it has the unintended effect of twisting Paz’s cock in a sinful way and the jolt of arousal Paz smells tells him that Din likely aroused himself while trying to punish Paz. Before either of them is properly relaxed from Din’s mischief, Paz pulls back and thrusts forward, pulling Din backwards as he does so.

The near shriek turned grunt sounds like it was painful to swallow, and Din’s hands have shot back to steady himself on Paz’s hands. He squeezes his mates trembling hips before repeating the motion, pulling further and further back with each thrust, until he’s nearly pulling all the way out. Din himself has stopped hanging on to Paz’s hands and is now using both his own knee and the tree trunk to balance himself with each thrust.

Paz can barely see the leaking cunt covered partially by clothing and the angle he’s forced to stand at with nowhere else to go. Removing one hand he works it down until he’s slowly grinding it along the soft mound, making Din whine and attempt to spread his legs wider while trapped within his clothing.

The soft, wet sounds of their bodies impacting sounds incredibly loud to Din. How the incoming procession of d’uul don’t hear them is unfathomable. Din watches their progression away from the water’s edge with swaying vision as Paz moves inside him. Din slowly creeps his own hand up his knee and thigh to pull himself to standing, when Paz hooks one large forearm under his right arm and across his chest to hold onto the opposite shoulder. The leverage sparks a change of pace and Paz seems to plow harder and deeper into his bowels. It’s all he can do to keep from truly crying out in pleasure, biting his lower lip as his breathing picks up.

_Closer, closer._

The thundering pace of hips beating against him is becoming increasingly frenetic, and the rough pounding his prostate is taking makes his thighs tremble while clear slick runs down the their length, smeared by Paz’s hand, while his unattended cock hangs trapped where it’s been caught up in his trousers.

He moves to reach down unhook his cock from being scraped raw only to pause as he watches the passing pack down below them. _Directly beneath where they are coupling._

Moving quickly Din reaches out and grabs one of the spears that is leaning upright against the tree, flipping it around so its head is facing forward in a position that feels right, his eyes land on one of the suitable targets they had marked out earlier. And hurls the spear.

Time seems to slow a fraction as the spear leaves his hand, traveling the distance in a silent arch across and down to the unknowing pack below. The heavy sound of a body hitting the floor is covered by the hollow echoing cry of the d’uul as they scatter around their fallen packmate and away into the foliage. The creature was dead before it even hit the ground, before it knew anything was wrong.

Paz had watched with fading confusion as Din had grabbed one their spears and expertly flipped the weapon into a throwable position. Its swift descent followed by the quick and clean demise of the juvenile male d’uul down below sent a thrill up Paz’s spine. He could feel the bloodlust rising within him and a dark growl was answered by Din’s pleased dark rumble, his own bloodlust rising.

Pulling out he straightened the small male and pushed him against the tree, knocking their remaining spears to the ground below. Pressing up behind Din, he fits his cock back into his loosened hole and begins to thrust with a primal abandon. Din flexes his hips back to meet the onslaught of punishing thrusts with a high growl of pleasure, his head falling back and to the side where Paz presses his own head close. Had they been uncovered he’d be nipping and sucking the tempting scent gland his mate so readily offers.

The swirling bloodlust and heady thoughts of sexual indulgence urged both closer to their climax. Din could feel the growing knot at the base of Paz’s cock, it dragged deliciously in and out of his clenching anus, growing rapidly to begin catching at the rim.

_“No, knot. Don’t knot.”_

_“I—unh, I know. I know.”_

The pounding pace kicks up faster and harder and Din’s legs shudder with his orgasm and the feeling of Paz yanking swiftly out of him to cum on the tree below while squeezing his knot. They pant locked in their own worlds for a bit before Din is shifting to push away from the tree. Paz steps back and they gather themselves together. Feeling shaky Din steps close to Paz and loops one arm over his shoulders and waits.

It takes a second for Paz to realize the other is trusting him to get them both out of the tree quickly and safely. Looping his own arm around Din’s waist he steps them both off the branch and they descend to the ground below.

Once they touch ground Din squeezes Paz lightly before stepping away and gathering their fallen spears. Paz forces himself not to stand frozen like a fool and walks stiffly up to their kill. Dropping to kneel next to the kill as Din stands beside him, he turns to the other and gives his lovers nearest knee a squeeze.

“Nice kill, cyare. Clean shot all the way through the heart.”

Din looks from him to their kill before removing the spear, “Thanks.”

“You’re going to enjoy this, I promise. Years before Tharr brought you to the clan, he’d had a bounty where the reward was the meat of two of these creatures. Brought all the meat back and we ate like royalty that day. We should hunt for two more to bring back to the clan as our return offering.”

“Sure, but let’s make sure this isn’t the only pack first. I don’t want to decimate the population if it’s too small to handle losing too many individuals.”

Paz turns to him as he drops to kneel beside him and clinks their helms together, “Of course. We’ll keep an eye out.”

Removing their hunting knives, they set about cleaning their kill and packing away what they will take with them, there’s enough here to sustain them throughout the Trial and then some. The male had been healthy and large, though not the largest by far. It had scarring likely indicative of mating rituals, acts of dominance or predation attacks. As they work efficiently beside one another, setting aside meat into their packs the world around them is quiet and calm. No sounds of approaching scavengers yet or other predators, the clan hasn’t been here long enough to fully know of every predator that may exists here and right now wouldn’t be a great time to find out. But they work swiftly, their greatest enemies right now are wandering locals and, in Paz’s view, other Alphas.

The carcass is swiftly cleaned, and Din turns to clean his knife and pack up, he notices Paz has stopped to remove one clawed paw and is removing the skull from the creatures’ head. Thinking it odd that he would after they’ve already agreed to bring back possible meat for the clan later, he shrugs it off and turns back to his packing. Paz finishes his own packing once he has what he wants, and they make the trek back to their den. Leaving the carcass behind for scavengers to feed on.

Once they are near the base well below their hidden den, Din steps close against Paz once more and they are ascending upward. The rushing water on their left from the falls doesn’t fade as they rise, but it is hidden by the mists and spray of its own water. The hanging roots of their tree that marks their den comes into view first and they land beside its tangled limbs. Walking ahead of Paz, Din enters the den first and sets his bag near the fire. Paz follows and they both set about removing meat, some to be hung to be dried into jerky, others set aside to be thinned or cubed.

After they have removed their gear leaving them shirtless, Din sets about cubing up portions of the meat from his bag. He pauses after a time to rub a piece of cubed meat between his thumb and index finger. Fascinated by the actual buttery feeling of it, moving his fingers to a different side shows that meat is so tender that his gentle rubbing had actually caused it to melt in a way that left a soft groove where his fingers had been.

Bringing it up to his face to sniff, he discovers it doesn’t seem to have any real smell to it. There is a smell, but he’s not entirely sure how to classify it. Paz knocking elbows with him pulls him from his thoughts and he watches Paz snag one of the pieces he’d cubed, popping it directly into his mouth. The sinful moan that follows makes his gut clench hungrily.

Paz is watching him expectantly and he pops his own cube into his mouth. The cube seems to melt almost immediately once enclosed in his mouth, eyes wide he lets it sit as flavors explode over his tongue in a rush. He wants to say something but is too caught up in enjoying the little morsel that all he can do is stare wide eyed at Paz, who just smirks in that way that is quickly becoming attractive. He can feel the buttery like grease slowly dribble from the corner of his mouth as he swallows, or maybe its drool. Either way Paz is leaning over to lap it up from his chin to his lips, before plunging into his mouth.

Their tongues tangle around the juices still left behind and Paz seems damn determined to suck the breath out of his lungs as he seeks out every savory corner. Pulling back with Din’s lower lip caught between his teeth, he lets go before nipping it and watching Din’s own tongue peek out to soothe it.

“Let’s finish our work and then we can eat.”

He turns away from Din and continues slicing his portions for jerky, leaving Din a bit disappointed but he slowly turns back to his own work. They spend the next hour and half about their work, with Din placing some of the cubes in collapsible bowl for them to share out of. When he’s finished, he leaves Paz to his skinning of the head and paw while he takes both their gear to the falls to be cleaned. When he returns, he finds Paz still going about his work and instead turns to the empty bath, setting the drainage latch back he seeks out their spare bowl and sets about the long task of refilling the tub.

Just as he’s finishing Paz collects some dry wood to restoke their fire and his trophies are set in a newly dug hole with old ash and embers covering them with an angled slope to allow air within. Both the main pit and this new hole are fed fresh tinder and they blaze to life.

Din and Paz sit on the edge of their nest to enjoy their meal with their boots and armor neatly put to the side. As they indulge in their food, they make quite the mess of themselves, but both are too far gone in a renewed bloodlust from the taste. Paz is captivated by the current sight of Din following a trail of greasy blood from elbow up to his middle finger, which he takes into his mouth to suck on. Turning to coyly meet eyes with Paz. The sight is arousing and like nothing he’s ever seen before.

Din himself is caught up in the moment and when he sees Paz observing him, he indulges in the flare of mischief and lust that burns in his core. His other core aches in response, clenching hard within in remembered pleasure.

Din rises to step over Paz to straddle his lap, looping his arms around his neck and bringing his hands up to cup his head. He yanks him forward into a brutal kiss as he plants his knees firmly and grinds down on the erection he feels pulsing to life. Pulling and scraping, following the taste of their felled quarry on one another’s bodies they move in heated sync.

Paz pulls hips down to grind against the core of his lovers awakening arousal and Din chases his way down Paz’ jaw and neck. Pushing away he continues his fevered descent down, latching on to the left nipple with a firm but gentle bite, scraping his teeth as he pulls away and down the defined abs. Paz’s hiss and low grumble accompany them as they both pull away swiftly to divest themselves of their pants.

Din drops back down and shoves Paz onto his back with a raspy growl of _“Back.”_ before shoving him hard. Paz pulls his arms back to prop himself up and watch Din’s maddening descent, where he lingers over the sharp V cut of lower the abdominals.

Din growls lustfully as he traces his tongue from the outer hip along the path of the sharp downward crest. Paz drops his head back from the view and the frustrating feeling of Din stopping to switch to the other side and repeating the process, dropping a kiss between the flat valley above his cock but between the planes he’s worshipping. The frustrated growl prompts Din to snicker and nip both sides, before dropping low past his cock and down to his balls.

It’s here that Paz’s scent is heavier, between his legs where his heavy sack and thick, long cock sit nested within their respective places. Din is not new to this side of pleasure, so it’s without hesitation that he presses his nose firmly beside the cocks base, where he sets about driving Paz insane with kitten licks and tiny pecking kisses. Working his way around the underside of his cock, then down to his taint where he punishes Paz’s frustrated huffing with a firm lick and suck that has him shivering uncontrollably.

He continues further to the heavy sack that he takes into his mouth first at the place where the thin skin connects the sack to Paz’s body then, not releasing the suction or his mouth he moves slowly down the sacks left side until he has one ball in his mouth. This he swirls about with tongue, feeling Paz shudder and curse above him. Continuing he moves over to the next ball and repeats, opening his eyes to find Paz has thrown both his hands over his eyes and his fingers are scrabbling against his own head futilely.

The sight thrills him in an immensely lustful and powerful way. He rewards them both by dropping his current prize in exchange for swallowing down the length of Paz’s cock. Paz curls upward with the shock of the sudden move, Din is already halfway down his cock and making fast progress. The sudden humming and wet, hot feeling of his mouth gliding down sends his mind reeling as he collapses back to the ground, at Din’s mercy.

When Din’s lips touch the base, where the slight swell of a knot is forming, Din pulls up enough to wrap a hand around it and squeeze. Rough fingers scrape through his loose curls and tug gently as he keeps up a steady suction while bobbing his head rhythmically. The sound of Din’s wet maneuvers is punctuated by Paz’s deep moans, he can’t do much else except gently card through raven locks of silk and it takes all he has not to shove the other male down hard. He’s positive Din wouldn’t appreciate that.

Din rewards the Alpha by pulling up and giving a firm suck to the head while he pulls back, creating a soft popping sound. Paz’s lusty smile is covered up by the feeling of Din swirling his tongue over the head and slit before finally pulling away and climbing back into his lap.

He’s barely caught his breath when Din is suddenly positioning his cock to his soaking folds, sinking down at a torturous pace. Din’s legs tremble the slightest bit as he steadily lowers himself until he’s flush to Paz’s groin. Paz slips his hands up trembling thighs to squeeze Din’s hips, the move sends Din into a dizzy height of arousal and he squeezes his vaginal walls tight as he grinds in a slow circle, looking for the right pressure and angle to get what he wants.

Finally settling after the lingering buzz of arousal fades just enough for him to move, Din sets about finding a satisfying pace and depth as he lifts himself before coming back down. Eventually the soft slapping of experimental bouncing gives way to the harsher sounds of hard drops as Din leans on Paz’s chest finding the angle and leverage, he needs. Paz brings his hands up to lock around Din’s low back as he braces himself to meet the motion with his own harsh thrusts. The first several punishing thrusts nearly send Din falling forward and he is forced to brace one hand precariously by Paz’s head.

They don’t keep the pace too long; Din is still unused to this form of vigorous exercise and the current angle, so it isn’t long before his protracted moans fall stilted when they slow down enough for Paz to guide Din’s hips in a slow circular grind. Slipping his hands back up he uses his core to pull him to sitting upright and cups both hands tight behind Din’s neck and pulls him down into a harsh kiss.

Gently pushing Din onto his right side, he pulls his left leg up to rest over his shoulder, leaving Din with only his right leg and two hands to balance with. Lining his cock back up he pushes back into the welcoming cavern. Once he’s reseated, he adjusts his own legs until he’s as flush as he can be in the position and firmly grasps the thigh resting on along his chest and his other hand takes the right hip. Leaning back just slightly to both see and get a good angle he thrusts and pulls at the same time, bringing Din into him firmly.

Paz mouths along the firm line of thigh muscle strung tight within reach, Din is panting harsh and heavy breaths beneath him, his delirious moans permeating the already heavy air around them. He watches dark eyes glazed over in lust look back at him and Din’s free hand blindly gropes for his weeping cock. Seeing the destination of the reaching hand Paz growls possessively, reaching down to snag the offending hand in a firm, warning grip.

_“Ibac’ner.”_

_That’s mine._

Din mock growls before he’s squeezing his walls tight around Paz’s cock with a hissed,

_“ner.”_

_Mine._

Paz rumbles appreciatively, “ _Elek, mesh’la._ ”

Din purrs to the response and Paz continues thrusting as he puts his magic hand to work on the pretty cock in his fist. Their raucous love making continues anew and they are both left frantic and desperate as they drag one another to the edge of existence. Neither willing to stop or rest even as the plunge looms nearer. And like two adventurers’ they plummet headfirst into the unknown of a world seen only in a moment but felt in the fade of blistering white and unknowing dark.

Paz comes back to himself to the sound of Din’s purring and the pulsing clench of familiar warm walls, milking his cock in a siren song of gentle urges. He carefully adjusts the two of them into the nest, an easy task with Din clinging to him. Once properly settled he sets into scenting Din the way the other clearly enjoys after their orgasms. He yanks the blankets up and is helped along as Din fusses over their exact positioning before settling down to kiss him.

Din blinks tiredly at him for a time and Paz kisses his brow, “No punching this time.”

Din’s mischievous smirk is tired, and his voice is raspy, “No promises. Maybe I’ll forget.”

Paz nips his nose “Better not forget. I’ll be worried about your brain if you do.” Din hums happily before snuggling into his neck.

“Fine, no punching. Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Husbandry - is the production or raising of crops and or animals, typically for food consumption
> 
> Mando'a Words  
> \----------------  
> mesh'la -beautiful  
> Ibac'ner - That's mine  
> ner - mine  
> Elek - Yes   
>  * Lek is slang for "Yeah"  
> Elek, mesh'la - "Yes, beautiful"


	10. Forged in Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for Ogress who said “…There needs to be more of Paz eating out Din, Maybe Din being shy about it, and/or sitting on his face and demanding what he wants... Moar plz :)”
> 
> Apologies this took so long! Chapter 10 did NOT want to be written even though it was all plotted out. The words just wouldn’t come. Hopefully the long chapter makes up for it :)

The next several days were spent with varying moments of intense intimacy. Paz seemed determined to forever torture Din with orgasms and Din’s body began to acclimate surprisingly quick to all the activity. Their less rigorous moments were spent talking or tending the den, gathering local fruit or herbs for their meals. They both enjoyed lounging in the steaming waters of the tub.

Lately Din had been feeling a bit off, he wasn’t cramping exactly but there was definitely pressure inside. It was easy to ignore at first, but the passing days since their hunt had the feeling lingering longer and sometimes increasing in pressure. He felt the growing need to put outside pressure on the space but so far, the hot baths had helped. Distantly, he was aware that they were the first signs of his real heat possibly starting.

Quietly he watched Paz working on the skull he’d collected, brushing the ash off and inspecting it closely. He’d been working at it and the paw for about an hour now as Din soaked in the tub. He’d dragged one of the bowls of chopped fruit with him and was leaning against the tub side to easily reach it, his head resting on his other arm. Fingering a piece of fruit without interest, he dragged it up to eat. Not really tasting it, he wasn’t too into it right now. He was bored and the pressure wasn’t going away like it had before.

A particularly sharp stab had Din frowning before looking back at Paz, still invested in his work. Large muscles moving as he sat topless over his work, tilting the skull at different angles and running a smoothing cloth over it in some spots. Din became more aware that his eyes were constantly drifting downward, following the abs to as far as he could see with Paz at the angle he was sitting at away from Din.

“Paz.” No response and Din frowned. “Paz I’m bored.”

Not even a little acknowledgement.

“Paz, I want you to come here.”

The bigger male continued with his focus still on the skull and that irked Din, maybe stung his pride a bit. Looking around he found one of their boots nearby, Paz’s own boot from the looks of it. Probably from one of their more excitable moments and had been forgotten.

Snatching the item up, “Last chance, Paz.” And with nothing more being said or even that his warning was being heeded, Din eyed the short distance and chucked the boot with force.

The slam of its sole pelting the back of Paz’s shaved head and the startled grunt from the target was hilarious enough, but the faint marks of the tread left behind that Din could see before Paz turned to face him nearly had him roaring with laughter. But the sight of icy lightning in Paz’s eyes had him swallowing it and trying to maintain some level of dignity and stoicism.

Paz had dropped the skull when the boot collided with him, falling back into the pit it had been pulled from. Turning to eye the offending projectile, his own boot, he picked the item up with one finger and extended it out towards Din.

“Explain.”

Din had the absolute audacity to shrug and close his eyes lazily, “You wouldn’t listen. I tried calling your name, not my fault you’re going deaf.”

“Are you a child that you need to throw things about for some attention?”

Paz rose and chucked the boot in the direction of the rest of the gear where it landed with a heavy thump, he turned to gather the skull back up. Din’s growl behind him and the sound of shifting water had him turning back to face him, Stars knows the other probably had something else to throw. What he found was Din sitting upright, likely on his knees with his hands braced on the edge.

“I called for you, but you weren’t listening.”

“Shouting would’ve been preferable to you throwing my own gear at me. That’s just wrong.”

He crouches down to pick the skull back up, “ _STARS!_ Would you leave that damn thing alone and pay attention to me? If you’re so fascinated by bones, I have one you could be paying attention to.”

Shocked for a second he eyes his mate, glistening and flushed from the heated water. He cuts a fine figure, with damp curls laying loose on his head and water trailing along his sculpted body. Din hasn’t really spoken like this in their time together, he’s getting bolder with each passing day but not about sex. He still gets squirmy on him about communicating exactly what he wants, having to nearly torture it out of him. So, this demand comes as a surprise, he hasn’t been this demanding since the day of the hunt. Having gone back to a quieter Din afterwards. Though he’s been more playful and mischievous with Paz since then.

“You wanna play, cyar’ika?” He allows himself to loose a feral grin on Din, testing how far his mate is willing to play this game today. Din immediately seems ready to backpedal; he squirms with a small frown on his face but the look of determination in his eyes is rising. Good, cause he’s definitely going to make him pay for the boot.

Standing sharply and quickly crossing the room he steps right up into Din’s space, wrapping his right hand around the others neck to tilt his face upwards. He leans down to kiss Din, clashing teeth and nipping. Firmly squeezing Din’s neck he starts to pull up, never letting up on the kiss as he drags Din to standing in the tub. Din’s own hands come up to encircle his wrist on either side, only to squeeze down as he jolts and gasps, pulling away from Paz’s lips.

Lust darkened eyes open under heavy lashes and Din moans prettily as Paz slips a third finger into him. “Now, are you going to apologize for that boot?” He kisses Din lips gently as he makes a come here motion inside of Din, “Hm?” another kiss as Din trembles.

Din swallows before shaking his head, “No? Are you sure?” Paz spreads his fingers before slamming them up, holding the pressure against the walls as Din jolts with the action. After a few deep breaths Din is shaking his head and nodding, confusing himself over the correct answer. Paz growls and nips his mates’ lips and steps back, still holding Din’s neck and not removing his fingers he pulls Din with him. Din yelps as he’s guided to step out of the tub by his neck and Paz’s fingers still within.

Guided down to his knees and to lean back against the outside wall of the tub he’s bent somewhat backwards, his legs having to spread to accommodate the position and putting him on display.

“If you’re not going to apologize then you’ll just have to make it up. You don’t get to just get away unpunished Din’ika.”

Din moans softly as Paz tightens his hold on his neck, just enough pressure to tell him not to move. He drops down to his knees and his broad shoulders push Din’s legs further apart and slightly up, having to balance on the balls of his feet. Thick, calloused fingers begin working inside his cunt, alternating the speed and intensity. The callouses intentionally rubbing over his sensitive inner walls, the thumb putting pressure on his aching clit in tight, grinding circles.

Paz continues working him over, the sound of his body churning like a bucket of water under Paz’s command still leaves him flushing with a bit of embarrassment but he’s growing accustomed to it every time they do this. Gasping softly as the sound increases alongside Paz’s movements, he can feel his orgasm coming up fast but the ache from his cramps is still present. He’s mildly irritated by that and it pushes his orgasm back a bit. Still holding Paz’s wrist with his two hands in a tight grip he feels Paz push deeper with a harsh back and forth rhythm that shakes his core like a jackhammer until he cums with a gasping cry.

“I know you don’t think you’ve made up for your trouble Din’ika, not yet.”

Paz pulls his fingers from the wet folds and uses his fingers to spread them for his viewing. Eyeing the trembling wetness that constricts around nothing in slow pulses Paz leans forward and sets a vicious suction over the clit. Din jolts and tries to sit up but Paz’s hold on his neck doesn’t waver and keeps him in place. Din falls back enough that the back of his hair skims the water in the tub, fingers of one hand clamping down on the strong wrist of his lover as his other hand blindly finds Paz’s head, gently pushing at the crown.

But Paz refuses to let up, keeping his suction strong and pulling up so that the abused clit is forced to follow as much as it can. Which isn’t much for a male omega whose clit, while often more sensitive is less developed in visual prominence than female omegas. Many don’t even believe that male Omega’s have a clit, but they do, it is often times smaller than their female counterparts. And the nerves are tightly clustered together from the small size. Easily looked over or ignored. But Paz knows it’s there, and Din is quickly learning he’s incredibly sensitive here.

Din shifts his hips and legs, trying to pull away or move Paz’s mouth away from his tortured clit. Whining as his hips jolt with a sharp shock when Paz just pushes closer and somehow increases the suction and his teeth occasionally graze the spot. Getting increasingly desperate Din lifts his legs to push against Paz’s shoulders and manages to pull Paz off him for a moment before both Paz’s hand find his hips and pull him back into position and the torment continues.

“Too much, Paz… please!... Ugh, ahn! _Paz_ ….”

His breathless rasping is accompanied by his pulling his trembling thighs up to rest higher on Paz’s shoulders and using the heels of his feet to dig into his back, Din pushes up and away from Paz. Pulling his aching clit away from Paz’s mouth and resting his two hands on Paz’s head for purchase. Trying to catch his breath he’s taken by surprise as Paz shifts and uses his hands on his hips to again try dragging Din back to his mouth, but between Din’s pushing and Paz’s pulling they both end up creating a difficult situation with no give. That is until Paz shifts again and hoists Din up using his massive shoulders, Din startles with the motion and is forced to hold on as Paz lifts him upwards above his head.

Just about to hit the ceiling Din looks down just as Paz looks up and pulls Din down onto his mouth, seating him firmly with gravity and supporting his back with both big hands firmly gripping his ass. Din trembles as Paz slips his tongue over his clit before submerging into his depths. The feeling of his thick tongue digging into his core and feasting on him leaves Din’s vision blurry and his thighs quaking fiercely, he chokes on a gasp and shifts his hips, wriggling on Paz’s face.

“unh…uh, ah! Paz…pa- _ah!”_

The second orgasm hits unexpectedly, just as Paz has finished rooting around between his folds to widen them to press closer into Din, a deep growl resonating upwards right into his aching hole. The orgasm rocks him precariously on Paz’s shoulders, he’s aware of the sudden shift and then he’s falling. Not actually falling, as Paz catches Din by his buttocks just below Paz’ pectorals. He’d let Din shift until he was mostly sliding down Paz’ chest, his calves now resting on top of Paz’s shoulders, holding him up only by the firm grip Paz has on his ass and Din’s hands locked around the back of his neck.

Looking up he finds Paz’ face is smeared in his fluids; the tip of his nose and his lips are wet, and his beard even glistens with the wet of Din’s orgasm. Din is lowered carefully from his current position and Paz hastily kicks off his pants before urging Din to sit on the tub with his feet in the water and climbing in front of Din to kneel between his legs.

Scooting up close Paz leans in to kiss Din, fingers slipping back inside to work Din over again. It’s not long before Din is whining and trying to squirm away from the stimulation, he’s becoming more accustomed to their lengthy sex, but he still can’t help how over sensitive he is. He’d only been somewhat aware of how multi-orgasmic Omegas were but had never wanted a partner to stick around long enough to learn the truth of that knowledge. Not until Paz.

Paz meanwhile just follows Din’s body wherever he turns, Paz doesn’t let up. Eventually Din twists his body just as the heavy sloshing sounds coming from his cunt start up again, turning and leveraging himself out of the tub and away from Paz’s fingers. Sliding to the ground and managing to pull away he stops to catch his breath, heaving in great gasps on the cool floor.

The splash of Paz leaving the tub and the sound of wet feet on the ground is all a distant sound. He feels Paz pushing at him to rise to his hands and knees before Paz is pushing into him from behind. He’s not overly aware of time slipping by as Paz continues to fuck him softly, using his hips to rock Din back onto him. He’s only aware of the growing knot and the swell of his next orgasm. The harsh clenching of his insides brings Paz’ knot to its full size, triggering another orgasm immediately on Din, his walls clenching painfully tighter.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

The morning of the next day wakens Din with the sharp rudeness of severe cramping. Twisting away from a still slumbering Paz, he curls around his stomach with his fists pushed tight against himself. The position isn’t held long, it’s not enough to satisfy the terrible ache and he rolls over to his stomach, letting the gravity and the weight of his body push him down on top of his fists. It brings the barest relief and once more he finds himself wishing he could just reach in and switch off the pain somehow.

All his twisting and the quiet, unintentional gasping soon brings Paz around to waking. Leaning over with concern on his still waking face, “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Din grunts and chokes back a whine, “My cramps are back, and they’re so much worse than last time.”

Large hands pull him on his back and Paz rubs his hands swiftly together, nudging Din’s hands away as he settles them over the ache and presses down with more pressure than Din has been able to exert so far. A satisfied gasp leaves Din and he near purrs when Paz uses the pressure and heat from his hands to palpate the area, occasionally rolling the heels of his hands over the especially sore spots. It’s still not enough to make them go, but the pressure still brings more relief than he’s had since waking.

“I don’t feel anything abnormal, but you are hotter than days previous.”

“Pervert.” He rasps, “Only you could find my cramping hot.”

Paz snickers before leaning over carefully to kiss his nose, “You’re the perv, I was talking about your temperature.”

Din manages to give Paz a half-hearted smile before blinking his tired eyes open to focus on Paz. “Fever?”

“No, I don’t think so. Heat is the most likely culprit. Let me check you over and see if that’s what is happening.”

Another mischievous Din smile, “Don’t you mean check me out, Pervy Paz?”

“That’s Doctor Paz to you.” And they both smile at their shitty jokes. “But no, I want to be sure it is your heat. If it is, it’s likely been triggered by the tea to help purge whatever is still in your system.”

“Shouldn’t that all be gone by now? How long does that shit last?”

“It varies for everyone, but overall there shouldn’t be any actually in your system still. A heat might trigger as a secondary defense to detoxing the body, like how vomiting and fevers might go hand in hand in ridding the body of foreign substances. This is just less dangerous, unless you’re allergic. Which you haven’t shown signs of.”

Din nods Paz on to do whatever he has to, and Paz moves closer. He takes his time testing his head for fever, palpating the glands in his throat for soreness, checking his mouth and eyes. Paz travels down and palpates Din’s chest after staring for a moment.

Din’s hiss and flinch seem to satisfy him and he moves back to his lower abdominals to palpate outside again, but more clinically than before. While he does that, Din focuses on his pectorals. He hadn’t noticed they were sore before until Paz touched them, and now he can see they are slightly swollen around the areolas, even a bit of irritated pink contrasting his tan skin. And they itch. It’s a vaguely familiar feeling from some memory he can’t place at the moment, but it sucks. The itching does, but it confirms in his mind that he is indeed showing signs of a true heat.

Suddenly Paz is cupping his vagina, not entering but his hand is firmly resting heel to fingertips along its length. It startles him into focusing on Paz who looks at him as well, “You’re extremely hot down here, and you may already be shedding any inner discharge.”

Well, that killed any corny sex joke he was going to make. _Ew._

“Discharge…?”

“I’ll have to check inside but with the level of heat you’re letting off down here, I’d say it’s very likely.”

Before Din can really say anything to that Paz is turning his hand and slipping his fingers inside, and _STARS!_ the ache that produces is relieving in a painfully good way. Din’s head drops back with a soft thump and he can feel Paz clinically twisting and pushing his fingers along his walls and pushing further back. The feeling is too much and not enough at once, but it does momentarily satisfy his cramping body by forcing sensation away from the cramps and on Paz’ probing.

All too soon he’s pulling back and Din lifts his head enough to find him studying his fingers critically. He just wants them back inside.

“Good news.” Din hums distantly, “You’re shedding inside, your body is preparing for heat. Based on the temperature radiating from your vagina, your slick production and the discharge, I’d say maybe another day or two you’ll be in full heat. I’m not specialized in this medical practice, so it could be sooner or later. But this is all heat symptoms and completely normal.”

“kay…”

“You alright?”

“mm, just… tired, but not. I don’t know, heat I can handle. But this is the first time its ever felt this bad before it starts. I’ve never had cramping like this, even the tea didn’t feel this bad.”

“Detox, remember? And your first heat with an available Alpha. Your body is reacting to me being here as well, as a non-familial Alpha. My body will be going through changes to keep up with you. It’ll induce a rut. Partly why I’ve been pestering you so much with all the orgasms, prepping you for your first go with an Alpha.”

Din lifts his arms above his head to rest his wrists on his forehead as he takes in all the information. “Really? All that sex wasn’t just you being a sex monster?”

Paz laughs deep and loud over that, “Oh, you inspire the monster in me cyar’ika. But prepping you for this possibility was high on the list. Even with all of nature’s blessings to make this time for an Omega easier, you could still get hurt. An Alpha in rut isn’t exactly the most careful. Neither of us might be in the right mind to stop if something should go wrong.”

Din chews his lower lip thoughtfully, “Could something go wrong?”

“It’s unlikely since I’m experienced with my ruts at this point, but it is better to err on the side of caution. Just because I am experienced in this doesn’t mean you are. Taking a knot during a true heat can be a trial on its own for some Omegas, especially inexperienced ones. As an Alpha in rut, my knot will be larger than before and last for longer. That can make things sensitive for both of us, and if you were to panic and try to fight me off, it could go poorly.”

“Poorly. Like, you’d hurt me?”

“Not intentionally, it’s my responsibility to keep my wits about me to avoid such circumstances. Some Omegas need to be,” Paz seems to be searching for a word before sighing, “ _coaxed_ into accepting a knot during that time. I don’t know why; I’ve heard some say that one’s inner omega decides the mate isn’t worthy for some reason. Maybe the Alpha is more aggressive than they like during the rut? It’s hard to say why exactly. Different for everyone, I suppose.”

“Could that happen with us?”

“If you haven’t been pretending to be comfortable with me, then I see no reason this would happen. Unless, you are uncomfortable with me?”

Din thinks about it, still lying back peeking through the gap between his crossed wrists at the ceiling. Paz has been incredibly patient with him during all of this, explained more than he had to, and kept his word. Din hasn’t felt humiliated or that Paz has been cruel to him. And he did promise to make this his best heat. So far, he’s done a heck of job. Din can’t complain, even with all the marathon sex and over stimulation.

They have also spent some time talking and actually getting to know one another a bit these last few days, and hunting with Paz had been enjoyable. Even before the sex. This is more thought than he’s given to this whole situation than in the days leading up to now. He’s surprised to find that he’s had fun, that he hasn’t regretted any of this at all. Not even once. Sure, he was embarrassed by somethings, but that was all sex related and really, only about things he had never known about himself or his body. It was still a bit embarrassing that Paz could make him sound like someone slinging a water bucket around just by fingering him. But even that was giving way to arousal, becoming less and less mortifying.

And while this was not the kind of accomplishment, he’d be running off to tell his buir the lurid details of, he finds himself in that euphoric place of being at peace with himself through knowing his self. More knowing of who he is as a person on a level more intimate than he’d been aware he could be. It brings a kind of pride and he’s glad it was Paz. Surprised that he’s glad it was Paz, but he wouldn’t trade any of their days together for anyone else.

And that shocks him, because it suggests a level of trust, he didn’t know he could share with Paz of all people. It could be hormones influencing him, but he doesn’t think so, the more he thinks of it. The more he realizes that this trust was always there, tentative and strained from their years of feuding and posturing around one another. But Din had never once thought in all those years, during all those fights, that Paz would ever actually hurt him. He could of course, he was no fool and anyone can betray a person’s trust. But this trust was born and fostered through the clan, they _are_ clan. Maybe not by blood, but there’s a trust that was always there. Even through the hurt feelings and bruised pride.

Looking at Paz now in the shadow cast by his own arms he can’t bring up the image of the man that he’d despised. He’s not sure they are square exactly on all the things from their shared past, but he’s pretty sure he could put it aside. It doesn’t seem important right now.

“I trust you, more than I think I knew.”

Paz couldn’t smile wider if he tried. Leaning down over Din they share a slow kiss mixed with multiple pecks between their smiling faces.

“Thank you.”

“You’re going soft, Vizla.”

They share a few more slow kisses before Din is interrupted by stabbing sensations down below. Breathing through it and opening his eyes to meet Paz’ above him, just in time for Paz to kiss his forehead.

“We should talk about our plans before the heat starts and prepare anything we need.”

“Like, what?”

“Have you considered my question about bonding.”

Din’s breath catches and he stares wide eyed at Paz. He thought they had moved past that. Or no, he knows they didn’t. He just avoided it all together and Paz had let it drop. But he’d been serious when he’d asked and it’s clear he’s hoping they can talk about it now.

“I, um. I haven’t really thought about it. Bonding and all that, I’ve never though about it before. At all, never. Just, I don’t know if I’m ready. I mean maybe I am, I kinda thought about it years ago. That it would be nice to bond during The Trials. But, now… It’s not because of you!” He rushes out when he sees Paz’s face fall into neutrality, “It’s just. I don’t know, Paz. I don’t. Ask me later?”

“Just not now?”

“Yeah, just not now.”

The silence is about to start getting incredibly awkward and Din forges ahead, “Was there anything else we had to…”

“Yes,” Paz nods and clears his throat “we need to talk about making up a blocker tea, so you don’t get pregnant.”

“Uh, shouldn’t I have been taking that before?” And Din is instantly worried he’s pregnant already, its been days!

“No, you’re fine. The first tea also acts as a birth control, only when the true heat starts will you be fertile. That’s why we needed to talk about the bonding or any plans for a child.”

“Oh, yeah okay. Um, no kid? I’m still getting used to having one.”

Paz chuckles and massages over his cramping body, “The first one is a trial. I always feared I’d drop Xoeth or leave him somewhere.”

“At least your kid can’t magic his way out of a locked space.”

They both share a laugh over that, and it transitions them safely back into the topic of creating the tea necessary for birth control and with bonding off the table the rest of the plans go smoothly. They cover things Din is and is not okay or comfortable with doing, thankfully Paz isn’t disgustingly adventurous in sex or while in rut so, everything they’ve done is fine and Din is open to more within reason.

He questions the bondage thing precariously which Paz firmly vetoes on the grounds that a true heat, unlike the induced heat from the tea, can make Omegas more prone to anxiety if restrained in a way that isn’t the Alpha. Paz asks Din specifically if he’s okay with Paz covering him, a natural response of Alphas trying to hide their mates by practically smothering them underneath them after knotting and one that Omegas instinctually want while in a true heat. Din agrees to this and is touched that Paz would ask; most Alphas just do. He doesn’t know if the other Mando Alphas would offer this or if it’s just Paz but, it’s nice to be asked even when he knows his Omega might take the reins for a time and demand it anyway. But it’s nice to get a chance to say yes or no, and now he sees the importance of this talk.

Paz also makes sure he understands that there is no such thing as Omega’s being heat sluts. There is no drooling, nympho-knot craziness that takes place. This is largely Omega stereotyping that takes advantage of the fact that Omegas in heat go through two phases of being in a heightened sexual state. It occurs first at the onset of the heat where their hormones will be riding highest and pushing them to mate and it happens again just before the heat officially ends. Otherwise, heat sex is just a marathon of any other kind of sex, with the added benefit of increased fertility. Their instincts are stronger throughout the whole ordeal but it’s not what the brothels and media portray.

Din knows all of this, but Paz is insistent on telling him anyway, of reminding him that he respects him as pack and as a Mandalorian. And that too is a nice reminder of how much safer he is with Paz than he is with a galaxy full of Alphas who think otherwise. And he hopes his biological parents are grateful it was Mandalorian’s who saved Din as an Omega child. He doesn’t have to imagine what his life could have been if Tharr hadn’t found him, if he’d still somehow survived by not being shot by a droid. He doesn’t have to imagine, his travels have shown him all the horrifying possibilities.

But he’s stronger than all of that, because he’s a Mandalorian. He only wishes they were stronger as a clan, then maybe more children could be saved. Because sometimes he sees Omegas his own age doing things to survive, whatever it takes to survive, and it hits him how many other children haven’t been saved.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

On the dawn of the seventh day, Paz and Din are up early and double checking all their supplies from food to medicinal and everything in between. They spend the most of that morning into noon gathering extra supplies of fruit and with Paz’s insistence, extra meat from some other animal Din hadn’t been paying much attention to. He was distracted with trying to keep his focus on his tasks and valiantly trying to ignore his terrible cramping.

They also gather up more significant amounts of tinder for their fires, and water for drinking. Although Din’s drinks will predominantly be the tea he’ll need to drink throughout the next week of his heat. The needed herbs are already steeping in their largest water container and changed with fresh ones regularly, so the brew is strong and well saturated to do its job.

The sizeable pile of fruit is divided like the meat, only some them get cut open for drying while the rest are left whole and placed with their meat near the nest, so neither is forced to leave unnecessarily. The food supplies will keep them both going, and the fruit is especially helpful for Din as an Omega, who will need as many healthy fats to boost everything his body is about to burn through. He’s never heard of anyone dying from starvation or dehydration from heats and ruts, but the galaxy is a big place and weirder things have happened.

He’s not about to be the couple that goes down in history proving an old joke true.

They’ve spent nearly all day gathering supplies and they appear to finally be done, nothing left for their individual instincts to worry over or make better. They finally have nothing further to do and they both agree to take the time to clean up near the falls, down below.

Just below their hidden den site and behind the falls they had found a small ledge just big enough to safely use for a shower. Constantly filling the tub manually was quite the chore and they planned to save what clean heated water they had for the actual heat, which was likely to be a messy affair with no intent to leave the den for the next seven days at least. Better to save that water and shower in the sharp, cold of the falls itself.

The water was shockingly cold, it took both their breaths away if the sounds of Din gasping out harsh breaths, attempting to get his lungs working was any indicator. Paz himself was trying and failing to breathe through the shock, willing his body to relax. He opened his eyes through the falling water to see Din finally settling in the cold and scrubbing himself clean.

They worked in stiff and mechanical silence, both just wanting this over so they can retreat to the warmth of their den. But they’re properly thorough in their washing, it’s hard to say when Din’s heat will strike exactly but neither wants to be caught dirty and risk illness.

“don- done.” Din gasps and quickly retreats as far back from the waters as he can. Paz follows not long after and they both hurriedly dry off, too cold to even bother looking at one another with any level of interest. Once lightly dressed in spare wash clothes for times like this, they make their way back up to their den. After landing Din all but throws himself in the den first, diving into the space between their nest and the fire.

Paz takes a moment to settle their makeshift door in place properly, before he settles in close to Din who squawks about Paz being too cold. Paz just pulls him into his lap, and they shiver together until the space and the fire warms them both. Or maybe its Din’s squirming that does it.

Din casts a heated gaze back over his shoulder, thick lashes hooded over his lustful gaze. The little male has been getting bolder with what seems like each passing hour. Anytime he tries to refute him for the purpose of prepping the den, the little monster uses the excuse of his painful cramps and prepping his body for the heat. And that is hard to ignore.

Especially right now, as Din keeps eye contact while he slowly draws Paz’ hand from his waist down along his body. Just above the band of his pants he lays his smaller hand flat to Paz’s own and guides him down beneath the clothing. He leans back on Paz, offering his throat as he nuzzles under Paz’s jaw. His soft breaths flowing against his skin with each passing second that he drags the big hand deeper, down further.

Paz tries to pause over his growing erection, the velvety head slick with precum. But he’s dragged slowly, ever downward to the burning hot core below. And Paz is positive Din is hot enough to melt beskar, never mind what that heat could do to a man’s finger. Or other places.

Din is moving in sensually slow movements, nibbling at him and his soft exhalations are beautiful to hear. That’s all it takes for Paz to slip his fingers into his mate and turn his nose into the thick, wet hair on Din’s head. He growls softly, getting wrapped up in this moment with Din who purrs in return. He’s been purring a lot lately, and Paz loves the sound of it. Quiet and raspy, just like his voice.

They sit like this for some time, with Paz gently fingering Din as the other nibbles at him while grinding his backside against his cock. It’s slow but not torturous, it feels comfortable to be like this together. Just another quiet moment in the security of their den.

Din suddenly nips his way higher and tugs Paz down closer to his face with a hand behind his head. He nuzzles his way through the beard up to his ear, he nibbles the lobe before his breath puffs over the ear.

“want you to eat me out.”

Paz pauses from where he was planting kisses to his shoulder, “Oh?”

Din bites the left side of his lower lip before letting go, “Lay back?”

“Anything you want.” Paz leans away from him and slowly reclines back, using his core to do all the work. Letting the muscles flex and bulge with the controlled movement.

“Hm, show off.” He whispers as he slowly turns to face Paz, straddling his waist, watching Paz reach out to grab him.

He catches the big hands swiftly and shakes his head minutely, his hair slowly curling from the heat and damp, but still stuck to his scalp. “No.” He shifts until he’s pressing the Alphas hands behind his head, “No touching, want you to just use your mouth.”

Paz grins and blows a kiss at him, “Want to sit in the Captain’s chair, do you?”

Din grins as he rises up enough to drag his pants down and drop them on Paz’s head.

“I’m always in the Captain’s chair, Vizla. But you can be my navigator.”

Din moves to crawl his way up Paz’ body to his head, and the sight he makes is glorious. Tan body moving with the grace that comes with stealth and athleticism. His hips roll with his movements as he crawls to a sitting position just above his collar bone, a dark eyebrow raised in question.

“Well? Are we go for launch?”

Paz chuckles, “Aye, _Alor’ad._ All clear.”

Din lifts himself with a sensual smirk before moving to hover over Paz’ mouth. The canvas of flesh laid before him is far more glorious than any starship or battle cruiser, and twice as formidable. Strong thighs mark a path to the main hanger, wet and inviting. Slick bouncing light like runway lights, beckoning Paz within.

Lining up and trailing his fingers over Paz’ brow to his crown, Din lowers himself to meet with the waiting mouth before him. Paz wastes no time getting to work as soon as he’s touched down. His head falls back with soft sigh, tiny rotations from his hips as a thick tongue is worked inside of him.

It slips out of him to trail the flat surface from the hole up to flick and press against his clit, before gliding slowly back to mouth over his lips. Sucking first one side then the other and plunging deeply to wriggle inside of him.

Paz watches Din’s enraptured face, soft with arousal. Every twitch and giddy smile, each moan and gasp. At one point his head drops down and he opens his eyes to meet Paz’s own, and they hold that stare until Din shudders on a cry that has him closing his eyes and his brow wrinkling adorably. His hips shudder and he can feel Din’s tight heat trying to enfold his tongue with quaking pulses. The scent of Din’s orgasm is mixed with the fruit he’s been eating the last few days, sweetness mixed with the unique smell of Omega musk.

Din catches his breath enough to lift himself and he sits back to curl over Paz and kiss him deeply. His lips catch Paz’ lower lip before letting go, he turns swiftly around and suddenly hot, wet is settling over his cock.

A deep rumble of pleasure rattles through his chest and he enjoys the moment for a minute or so before opening his eyes to the sight of Din’s backside, pleasantly presented above him. Lifting up without dislodging Din from his activities he settles his hands upon firm globes of flesh. Pulling them apart to reveal the neglected pucker.

He sets about giving the orifice the same treatment as the vagina before it, slipping one hand down to slip his thumb back into the tight folds and gathering slick into his hand. Once he has enough, he slips to Din’s other neglected bit of flesh, the pretty cock that had been ignored twitches with the relief of attention. Their master groans low around Paz’ girth, sending a jolt through Paz to his balls.

The den is filled with the sloppy noises of its occupants work; Din’s wet suction over the girth mixed with his gasps for breath and his own self-imposed near choking when he goes too far and tries to hold the position, coughing and sputtering when he comes back up, further mixed with Paz slipping wetly between his lovers holes and working over the cock in his hand.

It’s not much longer before they’re bringing each other to the end of the second round. Din manages to swallow down Paz’s cum which splatters on his lips and chin when he has to pull away with a cry, when Paz drags his orgasm out of him. He nearly collapses when Paz pulls away to finger his cunt in a fast-paced pounding that draws another orgasm from him on top of the other.

As Din lies gasping on the ground, shuddering hips shaking the flesh of his ass, Paz moves in to adjust them into the nest for another round.

_Thump_

The sound is soft and almost undetectable, but the smell isn’t.

Like a night falling in fast forward, Paz can feel his Alpha instincts settling in fast and heavy. Din is in no position to react, he doesn’t even appear to have heard anything. Moving quickly, Paz lifts Din into his arms and swiftly deposits him into the nest against the wall furthest from the entrance. He leaves the nest and yanks his clothing and beskar on, grabbing what weapons he has and stomps outside to meet the threat of whatever is here.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

Din is unaware of what happened, but he is vaguely aware that something is wrong when Paz’ scent changes from inviting to bitingly cold. It shocks his already sensitive senses into laying limp and compliant when Paz picks him up and places him in their nest.

He dazedly watches Paz angrily slap his clothes and beskar on, the dark look on his face is unforgiving and murderous. The next time he blinks, Paz is gone. He’s alone in their den with only the smell of their sex in his nose.

There’s a muffled sound outside that sounds of angry voices but he doesn’t catch a word of it, by the time his hearing catches up to his brain the only sound he hears with startling clarity is the clash of bodies and vicious growling.

Realization hits fast and hard, and he’s momentarily afraid that the Imps have found them. That his child is in danger and scrambles to pull his sluggish limbs out of their euphoria to be helpful. Once he’s dressed and slapping his bucket over his head and reaching for the nearest weapon, he forces himself to step to the side of the door and take a calming breath.

Whipping the makeshift door aside he launches outside into the open air only to stop short. There’s no Imperials, no troopers or bounty hunters. No laser fire. Just two Alphas beating the daylights out of one another.

When his brain and body finally sync up, he releases a breath and steps back into the doorway of the den, using the wall to guide him into sitting down. There’s nothing for it except to watch the outcome of this fight. And he’s not sure how he feels about it.

The Omega in him is upset that their secure den has been soiled by the presence of another, but it also wants to see them fight it out, to see who the better mate is. It wants the babe of whoever is superior. But the man is irked by the whole thing. He and Paz already have an agreement, the den is ready, and his heat is nearly here. He’s comfortable with Paz, they’ve already discussed everything.

A loud clang as Paz manages to throw the other Alpha to the side. Rolling up into a spring, they right their footing and charge Paz, ducking low and springing into a high jump to wrap their legs around his head, yanking him down with a violent twist to the ground. Both Alphas are snarling, though Paz is particularly wrathful, and they sling their fists with heavy impact.

Din notes idly that the Alpha is Phaoh Fak, one of their female Alphas. Closer in age to Din at twenty-nine and trained as a member of the Fighting Corps. His inner Omega whispers that she’d be a good protector, but then so is Paz, with his Heavy Infantry background. The sound of their deafening hits is proof of that, they’ve both got the Mando aggression and fighting spirit.

He has no real history with Phaoh, she’d been one of the older Younglings when he’d been brought to the clan, already wearing her helmet. He’d never known her face, but he kind of remembers her trying to encourage him to play with them all in the beginning. She’d tried the hardest of all the Alpha ade, and of the older ade. She was kind from what he remembers, patient and spoke with an air of knowledge beyond her years.

She was like the Matriarch in that way, words never wasted and actions rarely without purpose. Not like now, of course. Not with the Alpha hormones urging her and Paz to beat at each other like two walls in the same alley.

Two pained shouts call his attention, he observes as they warily back off one another, thinking maybe someone had won and he had no idea who. His heart stops, as Paz looks at him. Both combatants have scuffed beskar, covered in scratches and dirt, other odd debris in places.

“Stalemate, Djarin.”

Her voice is strained with her panting and Paz growls, “She’s right. You must choose.”

They both watch the sitting male as he stares back and forth between him, his body language is stiff, and his scent is slowly tinging with stress. Like burning cayenne, filling the lungs in an unpleasant sting. Slipping to his knees and then to his feet, Din turns away from them and goes inside.

Both Alphas wait warily, they know what he’s doing. They eye one another cautiously, and with a grudging respect. Their hormones want them to fight to the death over Din, but their sense of clan and the Way keeps them back.

Din returns as quietly as he left them, he stands in the space between them. Looking over first one Alpha then the other, assessing silently. His body gives nothing away. When he moves, they both stand to attention.

He walks to Paz and stands before him, something clutched tight between his two fists. And Paz feels like his world dies in that moment. His chest feels tight, his blood is rushing louder than the falls near to them, and he wants to beg Din to reconsider. Not after everything.

He feels something press into his cuirass for a moment, then slide over to his right side and pressing close.

“I’ve made my choice. Take my token and return to the clan or seek another who would have you.”

Paz opens his eyes to the sight of Phaoh walking towards him, she stops within a respectful distance.

“Thank you.”

Paz watches as if in a trance, he watches Din’s hand come up with a strand of tri-colored leather, braided and locked at two ends with a mythosaur knot. It dangles loosely from Din’s hand and Phaoh takes the dangling end carefully into her own, when she pulls back Din allows his end to fall freely from his grasp. She ties it to her left vambrace and leaves.

Finally, able to breathe Paz turns to Din, “You chose me.”

“I did.”

They study one another a moment more and Paz lowers his helm to meet with Din’s in a soft _clink,_ wrapping one arm around Din’s waist and the other clasps the back of his neck as Din wraps both his arms around Paz’s neck. They stay this way a while before Din is urging him back to their den with Omega purrs.

It’s only then that Paz is aware he’s still growling as if an intruder is near and Din is trying to soothe him. He wants nothing more than to mark his territory somehow, fortify it or move them altogether. But he knows it’s not practical, not with Din so close to his heat. The smell is stronger now, his Omega instincts might push him over into a full heat after all of this.

“Come inside. Come back to our nest.”

_Our nest. Our den. Yaim. Home._

In that moment he can’t stand it a moment longer. He swoops in to pick Din up around his waist and looks up at him through his helmet and the light seems to make Din and his unpainted beskar glow. He’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he’s seen many places. Even Madalore couldn’t look so perfect.

“No one will ever be as perfect as you are right now. I want to ask you to bond with me. Be my mate, _ner riduur_.”

Din’s hands come down as if descending from the heavens to gently trace along his helmet, mapping the scuffs old and new.

“Ask me later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be working on the next round of chapters, so if I don’t respond to comments quickly please be patient. I’ll try to answer everyone soon as I can <3 I told myself this was going to be 20 chapters, maybe. HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA *sobbing* 
> 
> Don't forget to vote on a name, if you haven't already.  
> The names are: Vas, Jae, Saez, Larak & Jaigr
> 
> Mando'a  
> \---------  
> ner riduur - my spouse/husband/wife/partner  
> ner - my, mine  
> riduur - spouse/husband/wife/partner


	11. Forged with Fire

After the events of the day before it comes as no shock that Din tips into his heat late in the night. They had been sleeping fitfully before that, with Paz’s instincts on high alert after their den had been found. He’d spent his time between checking on Din and carefully patrolling their ledge for signs of intruders. Din was also exhausted by his own instinctual needs to cover his scent on everything within the den and both their armor and gear. Though he never left the den himself he did rub his scent along the interior’s walls, floor and ceiling. Even the damn skull and paw got his attention and scent.

When they had both finally settled enough to rest in the nest together and sleep, the hours passed quickly and found Paz alert and waking from his light slumber. The soft scent of a den was replaced with the permeating haze of Omega heat and Alpha rut.

Turning to his mate snuggled tight against him he found Din flushed and lightly perspiring. His nipples were a bit more swollen than before and his thighs and groin were already slick. Din’s face was marked with the unease of unsatiated heat and he was shifting restlessly in his fetal position curled against Paz’s waist,

Turning over to face him properly, Paz slipped his hand between Din’s thighs gathering the slick into his hand. Din was wet from both holes and radiating heat like a raging sun in the desert. Slowly as to not disturb Din, he shifted the small man a little more onto his back. Din whined causing him to pause and watch him resettle himself back into sleep, unaware of Paz’s intentions.

Once Din settled and he was sure he wouldn’t wake just yet, Paz slipped his slick covered hand to the slim cock resting on Din’s thigh. Giving the pretty cock his attention for a time, occasionally collecting more slick from between Din’s thighs and watching the flushed cock rise to attention. Din whined in his sleep, slipping over to his other side and consequently pulling his cock from Paz’s hand. Pulling away to watch his mate settle again in slumber without his touch, Paz stood carefully and left the nest.

Doing a quick inspection of the den, he gathered more food and water close by. He gathered some more items from their packs and the tea they had been steeping and placed everything well within reach of the nest. Once satisfied he added more tinder to the fires and checked the levels of the water in the tub. Deciding to add a bit more after noting a slight drop in the level, he gathered his knife and gear together. Once outside he rechecked the perimeter diligently and then gathered the water he needed to return.

With everything refilled or setup he turned back to the nest. Removing his armor and clothing to be placed next to Din’s from the night before. Din had shucked all his clothing once the growing heat had started to make them uncomfortable to be in and Paz had organized everything into its proper place when it became clear that Din was much too wrapped up in dealing with his rising heat.

Entering the nest to settle nearby Din, Paz runs his hands down the line of his spine to the swell of his rear and the space between his thighs. The tightening of thighs clamping down on his hands, trapping them near the burning furnace of Din’s vagina and the cooing sound of an Omega prompts him to look up. Din is awake and looking at him over his left shoulder. His eyes are smoldering with lust and hazed with sleep.

Din calls out again to him in that purring coo Omegas make and Paz lets out a rumbling purr in response. Din twists around to his back, releasing his trapped hands to part his thighs invitingly. The little male lifts his legs, folded at the knees and wraps his arms around them to hold them in place. Revealing the flushed regions of his slick nether, his cock lightly trapped between his own thighs before slipping slowly out to fall against his belly hidden behind his thighs. Paz growls appreciatively at the display, running his hands from rear to thighs and back again.

“I love how your hands feel on me.”

Din’s breathless statement is met with Paz’s growl and the weight of Paz pressing his thighs closer to his chest, feeling the stretch through his relaxed muscles. Paz runs kisses from the space below his hands and down his thighs, planting them with light nips interspersed along the way, making Din gasp and moan.

“You’re so beautiful baby, love the way you feel.” Paz spears his tongue into the exposed cunt before him, Din’s strangled shout mixed with the wet sound of Paz suckling at him. “You taste so good. Always taste amazing.”

“Paz, inside... _ah! un_ , I want you inside me.”

Pressing up close to his lover’s body, feeling his warm presence flush to himself. Taking his cock in hand and pressing its head into the inviting heat of his mate, feeling Din’s walls try to clamp down on the head and draw it further inside.

“Are you ready for me cyar’ika?” Din’s face is turned to the side, his legs and thighs making a plush barrier between them, “I love how wet you are baby, so hot. Feels like you could melt me down.” Pushing into Din’s aching vagina he can feel the wet slide and pulsing walls beckoning him further.

Down inside the wet cavern he melts right into the deepest parts of Din’s inner being, feeling Din’s thighs tremble and his fingers clenching in his own flesh where he holds on, trying to hold his position beneath Paz. A high pitched mewl of submission floats up to his ears, behind his clenched eyes he can feel Din’s fingers trying to grasp at his own now, sweat making it difficult.

Coming back down from the high of being inside his incredibly hot mate, tight with the tension of heat and wet with heady pleasure. Paz rumbles and he feels Din’s walls quake in response, tight around his cock. “I don’t ever want to be outside of you again, mesh’la.”

“Paz…”

A deep, thrust interrupts anything Din was going to say, his head falling limp to the nest floor in a soundless cry. Paz begins to thrust long and deep inside him, beginning the first movements of this new dance.

“I could spend the rest of my days happily between your legs.”

Paz moves his hands to slide along Din’s outer thighs and rests them on his hips, tugging Din a little further under him to angle his thrusts into a hard, downward dive. Punching the air and breathless moans out of Din with each thrust, Din’s hands lose his hold on his knees and as his left hand tries to hold the tenuous position that is slipping from perspiration the other falls to rest over Paz’s right hand.

“uh-huh, ah… Paz, feels… oh! So good…”

“Tell me baby, talk to me.”

“um-huh _mm!_ You feel good. So…. So good inside me. Pa-ah!”

Paz pulls out abruptly, leaving Din to gasp and stare wide eyed as his legs are pushed apart and four thick fingers plunge into his cunt. The jarring movements are punctuated with the now familiar sounds of Din’s cries and the sloshing of his wetness.

“Look how wet you get. So good for me. Being such a good boy, getting wet for me.”

Dins left hand drops to grasp desperately at Paz’s hand, the furious movements make it difficult to grasp and his fingers are already strained from having to hold his knees, they fumble clumsily over the wrist. The pounding in his pussy feels like the pounding rush of blood in his head, making it feel like his fingers are going numb and he can’t properly hold on to Paz. A small feeling of anxiety flares inside him but is quickly forgotten when Paz pulls his fingers out to taste them.

Staring between parted thighs at the excited male below, Paz tastes his fingers. Sucking the wet nectar of his mates juices from them, tongue chasing the rivulets flowing between his fingers. He watches the way Din’s heaving, flushed chest rises and falls in a shudder as he watches him devour his traces. The shudders cause the soft and newly developed mounds in his breasts to jiggle, they’re small and not even a mouthful. But they’re there, developed from the heat and the presence of the Alpha to incite the production of children. Before they’d been no more full than any other male pectorals, but now they were soft and rounding in the way the heat makes all Omegas. To make them more appealing.

Paz wraps the long legs around his waist and Din settles himself to lock his thighs around him as he thrust back inside. With Din caught up in the feeling of the thrust, Paz settles in between his thighs and drops his chest to meet with Din’s. Grabbing his lovers’ neck to pull his head up and twining his fingers in the thick hair at the base he brings Din to his mouth.

Breathing against his mouth with nips and pecks passed between them, he grinds his cock inside Din who whines prettily as he tries to pull away to drop his head back. But with Paz holding onto him he can go nowhere, leaving him gasping against the others’ lips.

“I love it when I can feel your pussy squeezing around me.”

Kissing Din deeply he sets up a harsh rhythm of thrusts, keeping them both pressed close and tight. Pulling lightly at the hair in his grasp he brings Din’s neck back to mouth along his exposed flesh, sucking under his Adam’s apple. Din himself is barely able to do more than claw along his elbows and hips in his position, fully encompassed by Paz’s body and weight, left with nothing to do but ride out the tide of passion. His only ability the clenching of his cunt and he’s barely got the presence of mind to do that, most of it is instinctual reaction to Paz’s movements.

Abruptly the speed picks up, the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberates and stings in a pleasant way as the thrusts increase in depth and speed. The force has Din gasping and his eyes rolling back when Paz suddenly pulls out. The feeling of hot emptiness leaves him clenching painfully on nothing for the length of time it takes for Paz to flip Din onto his front and press him down flat to the ground. His legs pushed aside for Paz to slip back into his waiting pussy, he lays on top of Din along his back.

His large arms slip under Din’s armpits and chest to lock on his shoulders, using them for leverage as he pulls Din into each thrust. The thrusts themselves are long and harsh, a sharp forward jolt before stilling and pulling back slow, until all but the head is left on the edge of the ring of his opening. And the movements begin again. A rough thrust in, a slow drag out.

Din squirms as the pressure within him builds and builds into a very heavy presence within his body. He can feel his orgasm clawing its way through him, and Paz is building it into a slow burn with his controlled mastery of Din’s body.

“I can feel you getting tighter Dini’ika.” Din’s breath catches with the words, Paz snags one of Din’s hands and pulls it around to feel Paz slipping in and out of his cunt, encouraging him to loosely hold his cock as he does so.

“You feel that? Feel how hard I am…mm and my knot? That’s all yours baby.” Din whines as the pressure builds higher, his insides clutching tighter, “Love watching that pussy swallow me whole. You’re doing so good- You feel how good you take me?”

“Yes, I feel it.”

“Tell me how much you like it.”

Din yelps on a particularly rough thrust that sends white hot electricity inside him.

“uhn, ah I- I like it! I love it when you pound my little pussy!”

The world funnels in around Paz’s vision until Din is all he can see, “nn, and you have a perfect little pussy. What am I going to do to that pussy? Tell me.”

Din struggles under him to gain even a little movement under Paz, “anything! Please! Just- ahn haaa!”

“Just, what?” Paz picks up a brutal pace, “What do you want love?”

“cum, please! Wanna cum, Paz. _Gedet’ye!_ ”

Slipping back out and flipping Din back on to his back he slips back inside all before Din is able to whine about being left empty again. The thrusts build to a rapid crescendo and the sudden feeling of Paz’s knot swelling and locking drops Din into the harshest orgasm he’s had to date.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

The next wave of true heat finds Din on his back, the large Alpha is settled with his back to Din, currently pressing a vibrator to Din’s clit as he fingers his cunt. This little torture has been going on for some time now. His thighs are wet from his slick and two prior orgasms brought on by Paz’s fingers, but he’s getting frustrated from the lack of being knotted.

“umm, uhn… ah ah u-uh-ah!”

Kneading at Paz’s back with his left hand as his right reaches for Paz’ hand or the vibrator. He’s not sure which, but both are bring him torment with no end in sight. No amount of begging and seduction have thus far convinced Paz to fuck him properly, he has merely continued toying with his body and drawn exhausting but not entirely satisfying orgasms out of him.

His arm undulates with the motion of Paz’s own hand and arm as he works inside of Din. The pressure begins to build again as Din wails on another orgasm, his hips flex and jolt with the rough motion, seeping clear fluid in a slow-moving flow that grows slower with each resulting orgasm.

Paz rubs his palm from heel to fingertips up and down the length of the hot slit, disrupting the paths of the wet ribbons mapping their way down his lover’s lower extremities. Occasionally the passes cause him to push against the humming vibrator, adding pressure to the sensitive spot. Din can do no more than twitch and whimper.

Patting his lover’s tired pussy with three good slaps that have him gasping, he reaches down to grab each hip and lifting his lover up until he’s tilting him enough to get his mouth on the wet lips. Kissing and sucking at them as he would if he were kissing Din’s mouth, slipping his tongue inside to graze the walls and tickle the spaces as far back as he can reach.

He uses one hand to remove the vibrator as he works over the cunt and slips the humming objects into his mates’ anus, Din’s flexing hips and tired rasp the only sounds of complaint. Once the object is nestled deep, he begins devouring Din’s cunt more enthusiastically until Din is quickly cumming again. The strained and tired laughs of hysteria he hears from above mixed with moans, lets him know Din is still doing well.

Paz gets to his knees after lowering Din back to the ground where he twitches and hums with a little smile still curling the edges of his mouth with closed eyes. Parting Din’s thighs and scooping up another vibrator he thrusts into his mates pussy and quickly sets up a steady rhythm. He pushes Din’s legs up and together, resting the thighs along his chest and his calves over his left shoulder. He fumbles for the remote and switches the second vibrator on and presses it over Din’s clit.

Locking one arm over Din’s thighs to hold him in place and grabbing Din’s hands to make him hold the vibrator in place over his clit, allowing his other hand to settle on Din’s hip where he begins to pull and thrust Din against him. The thrusts cause Din to move and slide along the nest floor with each movement, until Din uses a free hand to place above his head against the nest wall to help hold them steady.

The pace picks up to a brutal pounding with Din whimpering fevered words of praise each time the Alpha buries his cock within him, swirling the vibrator around his aching clit as the other one hums away within his back passage.

“Fit inside me- so good, Paz.”

Paz tilts Din’s hips up more by hauling his legs higher up and settling one on each side of his head.

“mmm-make me so wet…”

“So wet for me, love how it sounds. Hear how wet you are?”

Paz drops a hand down and slips two fingers in alongside his thrusting cock, Din gasps around the burning stretch and drops the vibrator to the floor. Paz snatches the vibrator back up and the remote, switching them to their highest setting before pressing it back over Din’s clit.

Din screams while cumming, the rushing flood leaving his body faster than he’d anticipated. Paz meanwhile is fucking away inside of Din, whispering heated words into his calves as he mouths at one then the other until his hips stutter and lock his knot inside. He slowly works his fingers back out from where they have been trapped between his knot and Din’s rim. Din shudders as he feels the calluses rub him on their way out and fumbles for the remote on the ground and turning it off, ceasing the over-stimulating buzz against his prostate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Din is officially in a true heat.


	12. Worn with Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill for Nyxlied: “…I want Din to eventually submit to Paz and behave sexy and seduce him. Can Paz use some dirty language towards Din while having sex please? :D ”

The days blur like color in water, spreading and blending from the source outward. Fading at the edges from bright explosions into barely-there pastels, swirling their time together into an endless flow of sensations within the immutable space of their den. Wrapped in the presence of one another and nothing further, not the passage of time or the rumble of falling water. Memory of feeding themselves and the fire within the den is not present, but it happens.

Paz finds he often must encourage his mate to eat, drinking is easier and thankfully they both have enough of their wits about them to remember that Din needs to be drinking the tea. Its constant drop in water levels, not to mention that it is in Din’s hands more times than not, is indicative of the level of frequency he’s drinking. Eating has been another trial on its own.

Din seems fine to eat the small cubes of meat or fruit but getting him to bother eating a whole fruit or full portion of meat is altogether frustrating. It irks his inner Alpha and sparks moments of worry when his mate refuses food on the grounds of not being hungry. Or just disinterested. Din’s weight loss from this ordeal is also bothering Paz, it’s not at a truly concerning level. All Omega’s lose weight during this time, though it is mostly just water weight. Something easily regained once the heat is over, they’re after all exerting their bodies.

But it bothers Paz because it makes it difficult to properly gauge if his lover is losing weight in a manner proportional to his heat or if it’s unhealthy amounts of loss. Din is on the small side as it is, having always seemed scrawny and possibly underfed. That was just how Din was, his line of work does not always allow for proper observance of adequate meals. Paz would argue with anyone who thought a ration pack, no matter their nutritional value, was an appropriate meal for _all_ meals. Din is the most likely person he’d be having that argument with, of that he’s certain.

Watching his mate listlessly push a cube of meat end over end in his bowl, still flushed from their most recent romp, nearly pushes Paz to his limit. The bowl is still mostly full of the meat and fruit, though the fruit at least looks mostly gone. Paz had finished his own portion a few minutes ago and has been waiting on Din this whole time.

Spooning Din from behind he reaches over and picks up a piece of meat to pop into his own mouth, holding it he moves close and kisses Din. Exchanging the rapidly melting cube from his mouth with the push of his tongue, Din actually takes the morsel and swallows it. Not wanting to bring attention to this little triumph he quickly selects the fattier pieces of meat and continues to feed his mate in this manner.

When he notices the meat is finally all gone leaving the fruit behind, he pauses to continue kissing Din, not wanting to let on what he’s doing. Din is more aware today than the days before, caught up in his first experience of a heat with an Alpha. Thankfully things have been going smoothly, Din didn’t succumb to panic when his knot locked with him during the heat.

Knotting during a heat could be sensitive for some Omegas, their bodies were already over sensitive from everything else happening within themselves and their instincts could cause unexpected waves of anxiety or fear that might result in mating issues. Paz had been a bit worried this would take place with how Din reacted to the heat tea and his body being very sensitive already outside of a true heat. None of this happened, Din settled into his heat like it was nothing. The transition had gone smoothly considering the unexpected appearance of a rival Alpha, another issue Paz had worried would cause Din’s inner Omega to find fault with the situation.

But Din fell into heat without issue, the only thing Paz worried about now was the weight loss from disinterest in eating. Din hadn’t been able to really tell him why he was unwilling to eat, or maybe he was just being stubborn and not telling Paz. Or just being lazy. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was driving him to distraction. He hoped that Din eating on occasion, little as it was, would be enough to keep any ill effects from being too detrimental.

“You’re worrying very loudly.”

Din pulled his face away from where he’d been rubbing his brow against Paz’s jaw, turning a speculative look upon Paz with a cute frown.

“What has you worked up, now?”

“You haven’t been eating, mesh’la.”

Din grunts and rolls his eyes before snuggling in closer to Paz, pressing his nose back under Paz’s jaw. “Just not interested, not serious.”

“You’re losing weight.”

“Normal for heats. Not a big deal.”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s the heat, but it shouldn’t be causing a lack of interest in food.” Din groans grumpily and presses his nose harder into Paz’s jaw and throat, nipping and licking as he does.

“Maybe ‘m just hungry for you.”

“I’m serious, Din. You could-”

“Paz, please. If something were wrong, I’d tell you. Just as I have the entire time we’ve been together. If I thought something was truly wrong, I’d say so. I’d ask.”

Paz grumbles unhappily until Din nips more sharply at his neck, the bite stings drawing a hiss from Paz between his teeth.

“You need to trust that I know myself and my limits. I’m fine, really.”

“Really?”

“Ori’haat.”

They sit silently for a long time after that, rubbing their scent glands against one another. Din is more thorough in his scenting out of instinct, his Omega urging him to scent his Alpha in a sign of submissive appeasement, hoping the scent will lure the other into breeding. Neither minds the actions though, they had discussed the various actions their instincts might encourage before Din’s heat had struck and everything short of bonding was fine. Din had been hesitant in asking Paz for the natural instincts to be allowed to play out between them but Paz had been amicable to the whole thing and agreed that Din should be allowed to fully express a part of himself that was otherwise dormant.

To get to know a part of himself and his instincts and be able to experience those things. Mandalorian’s were lustful of life, they encourage the experience of all things when it could be had. This was just a part of the heat and Trial experience, one Din was deserving of. Paz would not deny him that right. So, he sat still and allowed his mate to appease him. The scenting was a calming balm that settled over both Alpha and Omega, the physical action of Din rubbing his scent and nose under Paz’s jaw also an act of submissive appeasement. But it was also a matter of trust, to allow another so close to one’s jugular, all it would take was for Din to get in his head to rip out Paz’s carotid artery and that would be the end.

Knowing Din, it was a possibility. Nobody ever said Mandalorian’s were smart. Danger was something they loved to flirt with, and Death was their dream date. The Mando mindset followed them into every aspect of life, they lived and breathed it. They experienced the world with it. And right now, Paz wouldn’t give up mating with Din if the other was threatening to eat him afterward. It would just be another challenge, another experience to overcome or die doing.

Paz snickered thinking of Din as one of the weird insectoid lifeforms he couldn’t remember the name of, he’d heard somewhere they ate their mates after breeding. What a shitty life, living only long enough to get your jollies off before your perfect mate was eating you alive.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hm, just thinking of you eating me alive.”

Din looks up at him and Paz laughs at his confused face, “I heard somewhere there were lifeforms who ate their mates after breeding. Insectoid lifeforms I think they were.”

Din is quiet for a minute, “I’ve heard of that too, but I don’t remember which species. Met a few different ones myself while hunting, at least one who propositioned me. I wasn’t interested in her, especially since I think it’s the females that usually do the eating.”

Well if that didn’t turn Paz’s gut sour from the thought of some bug eating his beloved. “I really don’t understand why they do that.”

Din shrugs and resettles against him again, this time resting his nose between his neck and shoulder. “I’ve heard lots of reasons why. Maybe they’re all true depending on which species you’re talking about. Or maybe it’s all stupid rumors. But I’ve heard everything from mistaken identity,” Paz scoffs at this, “nutritional value, longer copulation to general female aggressiveness.”

“Okay, can we talk about something else, this is getting gross.”

Din laughs against his neck, swinging his leg over Paz’s waist and pulling himself to sit on his waist. They make eye contact and he can feel the heat still radiating from between Din’s legs, his little mate begins to slowly grind himself on top of him.

Slowly Din takes his cock into his hand, gliding up and down in a slow display of long fingered grace. The other hand plays with a lock of hair by his ear before marking a path down his jaw and neck, fingering one nipple softly and continuing down along one hip and thigh. He stops for a moment at his knee before bending slightly to trace his finger along Paz’s own chest and tweaking a nipple.

The vibration from Paz’s pleased rumble sends a thrill up into Din’s vagina and he grinds a little more firmly, slick helping to guide him in a soft back and forth motion on the larger males’ chest. Springing forward with the quickness of any bounty hunter Din wraps one hand around Paz’s throat and the other grazes along the crown of his head before laying flat to push his head back. Leaning down he nips first his lower lip then teases his tongue at the entrance, only to pull back when Paz opens his mouth to allow him in. They stare into one another’s eyes for a long moment and Paz is captivated by the naked determination in Din’s eyes, the absolute ferocity of a sharp-eyed Mando. A predator locking eyes with its prey, intense and bold.

Never blinking or taking his eyes away, Din creeps in close and locks his lips with Paz. Tasting one another with their mouths and eyes. Feasting without compromise. Din pulls back just enough to no longer be kissing him, but they share breaths between them, the same intense gaze being held. Sitting up Din slowly leans back until he can put his hands behind himself to rest on, laying the palms flat to Paz’s stomach before tilting his hips and bringing his legs up from where they had been resting bracketed against Paz’s sides.

Din dips his hand down to play along his slit and slips his fingers inside himself, parting his legs wider at the knees in a shameless display that nearly has Paz lunging for him. Biting his lip coyly Din locks eyes with him again, “Are you going to take care of me, Alpha?”

The quiet words are whispered in a coy rasp that goes right to his cock, balls tightening with expectation.

“Always, cyar’ika.”

Fingers dipping in deeper, slick wet drooling out around thin fingers, “Do you want me, Alpha?”

_“elek…”_

“Me’copaani?”

“You, only you.”

Din tilts his head like a curious bird, his fingers slip out of him to pull the lips aside to show off his dripping core.

“Show me.”

Needing no further prompting he reaches for Din, drawing him close to kiss again. Wrapping a hand around his neck to hold him close he slips down to adjust Din into riding him, Din squirms away and frowns at him.

“No,” Paz pauses and looks up at him, “want you on top. Be an Alpha. Be _my_ Alpha. I want you to take control today.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words slap his inner Alpha awake faster than cold water. Snagging Din carefully by his throat he pulls him back down to him, “Don’t tell me no.”

He waits and watches Din’s eyes grow dark and there is no scent of distress, only arousal. “Alpha…”

“No talking. I don’t want to hear a sound out of you.” A shudder ripples through Din and the strong scent of aroused Omega fills the room like an explosion. “You talk or so much as moan, I’m gonna stop until you stop. Not a sound. Or you get punished. Clear?”

A quiet huff of air against his lips and Din nodding is all he gets, “Good, boy. Now, sit.”

He manhandles Din onto his cock, perching him on top when he previously had shied away. He drops Din down on top of him and wraps both his hands around Din’s neck, forcing them both to hunch towards one another to maintain the position. His hold is loose but firm, giving Din a shake, he nods towards his hips. “Safe word is beskar. Start riding.”

Din licks his lower lip and starts to grind in a slow circle at first, his walls squeezing on Paz’s cock before he begins to lift himself up a bit and slide back down. Paz keeps his hands locked around Din’s neck like a collar, “Faster.”

As Din begins to find his rhythm with one hand resting on Paz’s wrist and the other splayed atop his ribs for balance, he becomes increasingly wet. His quiet puffs of breath falling from his parted lips, “Faster.” Paz plants his feet and thrusts up, shocking Din into gasping out a moan. A sharp clap against his right buttock lands against his skin and Din yelps, it didn’t hurt but it shocked him.

Big hands wrap a bit tighter around his neck and pull him nose to nose with Paz, interrupting his ability to ride the other male. “What did I say about sound? Hm?”

Din opens his mouth to explain but a gentle shake and deep growl reminds him to stay quiet, he’s not sure how to communicate and both of his smaller hands come up to rub against Paz’s pecs as he squeezes his walls around the thick cock inside of him. His Omega scent releases pheromones to communicate his submission to appease his Alpha.

Paz rumbles approvingly, pulling Din into a fierce kiss that sucks the air from his lungs he pushes him back to sitting upright, “Keep moving.”

They begin again with Din lifting and dropping back down, after a time Paz begins thrusting up in ever increasing strength and depth. It takes all Din has not to lose focus and not make a sound. Paz isn’t choking him but the angle he’s being held in and the exertion of the work is making him breathless with each move and Paz has started up a very arousing growl. It’s not malicious but it hits Din to the core of his inner Omega, which hums with thrilled pleasure over satisfying its mate. Thrums with Paz’s approval.

Just as Din’s legs begin to quake with the effort and his legs feel like they’ll fall off, Paz suddenly swings them around, placing Din onto his back without dislodging his cock. Sinking in further from the gravity of his weight resting at the juncture between Din’s legs, Din chokes on a cry, managing at the last second to swallow it near painfully.

Paz leans down to kiss his nose, “Good boy, keep it up. Doing so good.”

Deep, racking thrusts begin to hammer away at his insides as Paz releases his neck to avoid suffocating him and slips his large hands to rest along Din’s ears and into his hair.

“Touch yourself. Show me how you touch that pretty cock.”

Din bites his lower lip when he almost whines over that command, his hands shakily travel down as Paz continues thrusting. The movements rock him against the floor of their nest and he finally takes hold of his cock. Blindly follow its familiar length from the head to the base, his fingers fumble over himself as Paz watches. It’s not much longer before Din manages to find a satisfying pace to match with Paz’s thrusts inside him.

“That’s right baby, show me what you got. So damn beautiful.”

Leaning back and releasing Din’s hair with one hand, he reaches down and drags Din’s free hand up to rest by his head, restraining it within his own grasp. He turns his head to nibble on Din’s nearest ear, sucking on the lobe and lifting his hips until his cock is almost out before dropping his full weight back down. The action punches a breathless grunt out of Din and he stops to eye the little male under him, nipping his neck in admonishment.

“Was that a sound?”

Din vigorously shakes his head, dark curls bouncing loosely around his head. The walls surrounding his cock pulse and squeeze. Pushing back from his position to loom over the little male he takes his face into his hands and once more brings them nose to nose.

“You sure you want to lie to me, Din’ika?”

Din chews his lip and averts his eyes before looking back at him, repeating the process twice more before shaking his head again.

“Very well, you don’t want to tell the truth. You get punished.”

Pulling out completely to the shocked cries from Din he drags him into turning over. Before the other can say anything he’s already landing the first of a series of smacks. He doesn’t linger on his lovers’ skin and he doesn’t hit with the full force of his strength, only enough to sting.

Din squirms and whines but Paz keeps it up for ten strokes, nothing too serious. He doesn’t want Din’s Omega instincts to take this the wrong way and upset him. That’s the last thing either of them needs or wants, for Din’s instincts to think this is an actual punishment instead of play. He’s not trying to send his mate into a shock induced submission.

Critically eyeing Din’s backside for signs he was too harsh, he turns Din back around to find him pouting adorably. Pressing a kiss to his forehead he once more takes Din’s face in his hands, “Are you going to behave, mesh’la?”

Din nods and moves to nuzzle Paz’s jaw and presses a small kiss there. Paz kisses him fully and reaches between them to slip his cock back inside Din, watching his mates lower lip tremble with the strain of not making a sound. Running his fingers through the loose curls until he gets a fistful to pull lightly at his mates scalp, he renews his thrusts and keeps a close eye on Din as he breathes through each movement.

“I can’t get enough of how good you feel.”

Dins opens his mouth to gasp silently and looks at Paz through watery eyes, a few curls land on his forehead from the movement of Paz’s thrusts. His slim hands come up to hold on to Paz’s shoulders. Their bodies slap together as Paz increases his pace, sitting up to grab slim hips and keep Din firmly in place.

Din’s own hands scramble for purchase until the rough pounding he’s taking becomes too much and his hands shoot up to his face in a frantic attempt to keep from screaming his oncoming release. Eyes shutting and a strangled, high pitch mewl just barely escapes as Paz’s knot catches and pulls them both over the edge.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

The early noon of their thirteenth day finds both mates waking to the sound of more water than they’d ever heard previously. The heavy downpour does not stop either from organizing their gear and cleaning their beskargam. Din’s heat had significantly subsided in the late hour of the night and both had been able to get some much-needed rest as a result. Din had woken with a fierce appetite and personally finished off their remaining cubed meat and a fair portion of the dried, not to mention three whole fruits and the remainder of his tea.

Seeing his mate’s appetite restored brought some personal sanity to Paz’s mind and they both set about filling the day with talking and preparing their next hunt. Once everything has been fully organized, they leave to track their prey and are eventually able to find the pack of roaming d’uul again. Once they take full stock of the pack’s numbers, they determine it is safe to take two moderately sized members down, they could take one of the big males but decide against it.

Din insists the large male might have better mating genetics to ensure the packs continued existence compared to the small males and Paz relents. The hunt goes smoothly even with one of the bigger males trying to run Paz off the body of one of the dead ones. Din dropping down beside him made the charging male turn a flee back into the foliage with its pack.

They return to their den without butchering the bodies and secure them near the coldest spot to keep until tomorrow. Din lingers back by the two creatures for a small time as Paz returns to the den to clean his beskar, Din enters not long after and cleans up as well.

Stripped back down to their pants, Din moves to get in the tub to enjoy it for their final night and Paz removes his d’uul skull and paw from the smaller pit. He polishes them up and sets them inside his pack. He then fills the hole left behind and packs it down firmly before brushing himself off and joining Din in the tub.

The day fades away quickly after that, with the two relaxing in the hot water and eating the final portions of their previous hunt and remaining fruit. Din is pleasantly sore but not in the mood for sex, and neither is Paz. They spend their last night with pleasant talks and when they can no longer stand to be in the tub they redress and empty the waters for the final time. Together they collapse the walls and pack it down, putting an end to Paz’s clever creation.

They enter their nest and huddle close, nothing more said between them. Din moves in first and nuzzles the Alphas jaw in one final act of scenting and draws in the smell of him. Paz also takes in Din’s scent, committing each moment to memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tricky one to write lol But I wanted Din to take control by giving control away willingly. Submitting to Paz through submitting to his instincts. Paz & Din already talked about their mating and possible scenarios, so the concept of trust and permission is already there. I did not however go in depth because I didn't feel that Din as a character, even as a Mando, would give in so easily to his instincts. A lot people tend to be shy about exploring their sexuality and letting their partner see them in a different light, fear of being judged and all that.
> 
> You've probably also noticed that the writing differs from other A/B/O heat stories, where an Omega is lacking control and the ability to say No and turning into a sex-crazed zombie. I wanted to avoid that in this, so it's all written with avoidance of those common descriptors. This is Din's first heat (with an Alpha) and I'd imagine that it could be rather traumatizing for any individual suddenly subjected to their will being taken away. So I purposely avoided anything overly adventurous and kept it fairly tame for Din's first go. If you have any questions feel free to ask, I'll get to them soon as I can. My thoughts are a bit jumbled from three days of migraine pain, but I'm currently working on Chapter 13 <3


	13. Cin vhetin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, 13-16 was supposed to be dropped last Sunday (23rd) but my internet went out! I have no idea what was happening. I'm going to try and see if this chapter will at least get posted, because the internet seems to be dropping in and out for some reason. Every time I think it'll work, it won't post. So, I'm gonna try just this one chapter.

Din finishes securing the d’uul for the journey home as Paz finalizes the removal of the outer barrier from the cave. The fire pit was filled in after breakfast and their gear moved outside, neatly packed away. The next order of business had been to fill in the nest. The easiest to fill but also the hardest. Their shared scent is covered in no time by dirt and it would take a discerning eye to notice that anything had ever been there at all.

“That’s the last of it.”

Din turns to face Paz as he throws the last of the natural barrier to the side, the inner barrier had been taken down and folded away by Din. It was still good; it could be used for something else by the clan later. They couldn’t afford to just throw anything away if it could be re-purposed.

“Ready to go home?”

Paz smiles as he glances around their ledge, “I’ll miss it but yes, I’m ready to see my little terrors. You must be missing your family by now.”

Din nods, “It’s the first time I’ve been away from the kid for so long. I hope things went well while I was gone.”

“I’m sure your buir managed just fine. Although, I’m sure they’ll be pleased to have you home.”

“I’ll miss this place though.” Their eyes meet as Paz steps beside him near the ledge. “You kept your word, about making this the best heat I’ve ever had. It was… fun.”

Paz smiles at him, tucking a stray curl behind Din’s ear and studying his features for the final time. Din also studies Paz, committing the masculine face to memory.

“It doesn’t have to be the last time, Din.”

“No?”

“No,” Paz steps in close until their beskar clinks from the contact. “not if you find me worthy of you.”

“Worthy…”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Din. Sharing this heat with you has made me want that even more.”

“Does it feel like you’re worthy?”

Silence fills the air between them, and Paz can only step back and sigh, “No.”

Din can see plainly, just how badly Paz had wanted to say yes, that he felt worthy of him. He watched Paz swallow his pride and think about everything before saying no. No easy feat for a man like Paz, for an Alpha. For a Mandalorian.

“But you have earned the right to try.”

Paz stands stunned by Din’s words, unable to think as his mind blanks. This entire experience has been one whirlwind of Din constantly sucker punching him when he least expects it. Just when he thinks he’s heard the final word on something, Din slingshots the entire thing, leaving him reeling from the whiplash.

Din sidles up to Paz, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down to share a final heated kiss between them. When Paz finally seems ready to snap out of his daze, Din has already pulled back and is slapping his bucket firmly on his head.

“I didn’t- wait. Are you saying, I can court you?”

“Yes, I am. You may.”

“Can we kiss again?”

“Why?”

“I didn’t, not fair that you spring that on me and kiss me before my brain catches up.”

“That’s not my fault. Use your brain more, it won’t stagnate if you do. Wouldn’t have to cold start it if you kept it warm.”

“Wha- but, it is your fault!”

Din turns away to study the ground and begin to mumble to himself, “Or maybe it’s old age.” Paz hollers indignantly beside him, “Maybe I should rethink this. I already got a fifty-year-old toddler, I don’t need a senile suitor.”

“I’m not _that_ much older than you! And I do use my brain. I built you that tub and everything.”

Din turns back to face Paz, smiling under his bucket. He gestures with his hands in an upward motion and Paz’s grin practically splits his head. Bouncing forward in a way that a man Paz’s size can only pull off, he’s slipping the bucket up by the edge to reveal Din’s mouth, swooping in for a demanding kiss, “Thank you, cyar’ika.”

Din’s little smile is the last thing he sees before slipping the helmet back into place and turns to place his own upon his head.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

The journey back to the entry point where they all departed takes several hours. They’re joined four hours into their journey by two members of the clan who had participated in the Trials, Kamrah and Jaral.

Kamrah and Jaral smell of one another, like fading heat and rut. Din is immediately self-conscious of the notion that he and Paz probably smell too. Nobody says anything but, Din can’t possibly be alone in thinking about it. The mated pairs are also walking close to one another, all that time together makes them unconsciously seek out the presence of the other.

But he can’t bring himself to move away, not before he has no choice.

A further hour and a half slips by before their group is merging with the remaining stragglers, the entrance they seek is not much further now. The crunching of their combined boots as they trek along is heard only among the silence of the group and the fauna around them.

Tired as they all are, and they can smell that on one another, it does not stop them from taking the necessary precautions. Fanning out into formation with the ease of those who’ve lived in close quarters and know one another’s habits, they proceed with continued caution and high observance. More than once the group stops as one from a signal, listening and alert. Threats are quickly established as inconsequential, and they move on.

They stop and settle for a few minutes when they reach the clearing before the entrance, reassessing for signs of disturbance or indications of enemies or outsiders. When they’ve all been satisfied, they surge swiftly forward as one, melting into the shadows of the maw. Two stay behind to watch the entrance for any signs they’d been followed as the others move further inside to wait for them. The soft call of a whistle signals they’re returning to the group, once whole again they continue back home.

By now the group has relaxed significantly, their bodies no longer tense the further from the entrance they get. Paz and Din are at the front of the group, with Din following Paz’s direction and noting the path for himself for future reference. Until finally, they emerge on to the back of the plains. The soft, grey grass like waving ghosts.

Nioth is there to greet them, settled on a small boulder with a medical bag resting beside him. His beskar is colored in a predominance of white with dove grey edging and jade colored details. His helmet is covered in the jade coloration, with the red symbol of the medical corps splashed on the right side.

That same jade colored helm is looking down at them with an intense scrutiny, his head turning to observe the others filing in behind. Nodding to himself, “Any injuries or illness?” he slides down the side of the boulder, his leather and beskar scrape quietly on the way down.

Nobody says anything, so Din assumes they must be shaking their heads just as he and Paz are. The firm nod they get from Nioth as he turns his back to them to walk back home confirms Din’s conclusion, and they all trail after the medic in a loose group. No longer holding anything like a formation, they walk towards the sounds and sights of home.

The closer they get the more bodies they can see gathering, the little ones are pushing their way to the front between the adults and begin to jump and wave, little voices high with the tones of their youth ringing out towards them. A few of the adults in their group wave back, Paz included. Din can see their armorer coming to stand at the front center of the mass of Mandos.

Nioth breaks away to stand with the others as the participants halt several paces back, not quite breaching the line between the plains and the first of the huts. The Matriarch steps forward after studying them all, she stands straight backed and tall before them.

_“Still alive, I see.”_

_“Yes, Leader.”_

_“Is there any among you who returns dishonored?”_

The stillness of all the participants and witnesses is heavy with bated breath, everyone is waiting to see if any among their kin has fallen, dishonored by their own actions. If the rules had been broken, if their laws had been ignored, there would be no mercy.

_“Then let us proceed.”_

She turns swiftly away and strides to her place at the head of the clan, once more standing before the doors of the clan home. The witnesses move with her after she has proceeded them several steps, a few of the ade caught up by the adults to reign them in and keep them from charging ahead. Customs must be observed here and the ade, above all others, must be taught the proper observances.

The clan settles into their places and Din, along with the others kneels before her at the front. The difference now is Paz kneels on Din’s right and so too do the Alpha’s who have mated with an Omega. The other Alpha’s also kneel along the same line, but instead of behind they now settle to the left side of the lineup. Everyone now is of an equal footing than when they had started, now the inexperienced have joined those who have taken the Trials before them. More experienced than they’d been before.

_“We shall start with the bestowing of honors in combat and tracking.”_

These honors largely belong to the Alphas alone, though combat honors can be bestowed upon anyone. All the participants in this year’s Trials earn the combat honors, given as a braided strand in the Clans colors of the Death Watch and woven with a single strand of gold, their leaders color, in a configuration of braiding known as Mythosaur teeth. She ties them personally to their left pauldron, going steadily down the line at her leisure. When she has tied the last, she returns to her place at the head once more.

Tracking honors are then bestowed upon the Alphas who came across an Omega, win or lose. These favors come in the form of flat coins made by the armorer herself within her forge, stamped with the Death Watch sigil at its center and the prints of a Mythosaur rounding its edges.

One by one each member announces their combat wins and losses, they extol Xil and Din’s abilities in both being almost Unattainable. A fact that nearly excites the whole clan. Heat/rut combats are discussed, Paz and Phaoh speak on their combat challenge with Din to confirm the whole thing. When all has been aired before the clan and their leader, the next round of awards are bestowed.

Xil earns the minor honor of Mirage, her scent was picked up more than once and she had a run-in with one of the Alphas but had escaped after defeating them. These things disqualified her from being able to claim the coveted honor of an Unattainable, but Mirage was equally prestigious. Mirage was the next best thing, given to those who were just in reach but could not be had.

Din earned the title of Phantom; an equally minor title like Mirage, but Din’s title was awarded to those who were hunted relentlessly but could not be found within a set timeframe. If he’d been able to fight off Paz, he might have earned the title of Mirage, but he found he didn’t mind. He’d spent his heat wonderfully and didn’t regret it now that it was all done. The title of Phantom was one to be proud of, it was no Unattainable, but it was not often Omegas earned a title at all during the Trials. Most who do were typically experienced with the Trials already, for Din to earn a title on his first was exceptional on its own. Never mind that two Omegas had earned titles.

_“Tokens for your titles shall be forged for you to wear.”_

The Matriarch seemed especially pleased with making that announcement, _“Now that all has been done, let us hear who among you has been given the greatest honor of all. Who here has been found worthy to be called mate?”_

Jhasla and Llix are the first to step forward; to the delighted surprise of many they announce their will to be bonded into a Triad, an exceptionally rare mating among Mandalorians. Jhasla is already mated to her Omega Nas, and Llix chose to be their third after discussing everything before the heat set in. It wouldn’t be known just yet if Llix was carrying a babe already, but the new clan Triad would surely be keeping watch. The armorer for her part accepted this, with Llix alone and no family of his own within the clan she approved their bonding and the wedding would be set for a later date. His things would be moved from the clan home into the home of Nas and Jhasla.

Khamrah and Jaral went next but announced no intentions to court, bare children from their union or bond. This too was accepted and Jaral was ordered to report to medical for an official birth control injection, one that would be stronger than even the tea’s they ingested. Precaution only, but it never hurt to be certain. Which leaves Paz and Din.

Stepping forward a half step together, shoulder to shoulder. Din is partially aware of the pack Paz had brought forward with them but ignores it in favor of speaking up.

_“I wish to announce that myself and Paz Vizla intend to begin a courtship.”_

No one speaks, but he thinks he hears Paz’s ade murmuring excitedly to one another. A loud _“OH!”_ is shouted when one of the children seems to catch on to what has everyone else so excited. He can hear the adults trying to shush the little ones’ question _“does that mean buir is getting married?”_ Din can hear his own buir chuckling somewhere in the background of the chaos as everyone tries to regain control of the situation.

_“For our courtship and in honor of the other participants, we have brought two d’uul from a hunt the day before.”_

The murmuring begins again as everyone becomes excited by the prospect of the feast they’ll have that night. When they have quieted again, Paz takes over.

 _“For clan Djarin I also humbly submit a token of our courtship,”_ bringing out the large d’uul skull as Tharr steps into view with Din’s adiik in his arms, _“I humbly request that this token of Din’s kill from our first hunt together be seen as worthy of clan Djarin’s approval.”_

Everyone waits with rising anticipation as Tharr takes the skull and turns it end over end with a critical look. Din isn’t worried too much, his buir will trust his decision and is just making a show of all of this. Right now, Din is trying _really_ , hard to stay focused while his little one squeals and reaches out for him, he wants to scoop them up into his arms.

_“It is acceptable.”_

Tharr takes the skull and steps away while his bu’ad lets out a tiny whimper, to be hushed gently by Tharr. That sad little sound was almost enough to break Din.

 _“Din Djarin, in honor of the start of our courtship please accept this.”_ Paz pulls out the claws from the paw of the d’uul he had taken along with the skull; the claws are finely polished and threaded with careful braid work in the colors of clan Vizla, steely blue woven with grey and black threads.

Din turns to face Paz, offering him the chance to tie it to Din’s left hip and Din reaches into his pocket to pull out his own token.

_“I will accept your courtship gift, if you would accept mine.”_

Din’s token is woven in the crimson, white and black of his clan’s colors and securely tied through hidden holes covered by the intricate braiding. The tusks of the second d’uul stand out like thick and sharp weapons, made for brute force, a resemblance to the man they are being presented to.

Tying them to Paz’s left hip leaves Din feeling buzzy with energy, he feels like he can barely contain everything he’s feeling about this moment. It’s a major step in his life, it could lead to many possibilities and Din’s not sure how to process it all. Is this what it is to love someone? But then he’s not sure he really loves Paz yet. And that’s okay, surely?

The tokens being exchanged is all there is to be done on the matter, words do not have to be exchanged as this is not a bonding. Courtships are not a commitment to marriage or even really intended to lay claim on another individual. The courtship is the couple’s way of announcing their intent to know one another with the possibility of bonding, it is not set in stone and either partner is free to end the courtship at any time and for any reason. It is dissimilar to dating in that its intention is to determine the actual suitability of one mate to another, they have no set length of time and no promise to not court another prospective mate at the same time. Din has long thought of it as a lengthy interview process with dating elements thrown in, no commitments necessary.

Paz steps back and kneels in place, knowing Din has not finished yet. The clan does not know but instantly, the Matriarch and Tharr are very aware of what is to happen now. She says nothing but nods for Din to continue, Tharr steps in closer to the lineup but does not cross over to stand beside Din.

_“I wish to formally announce before my clan, my intention to take this child for my own.”_

Turning to his buir Din reaches out for the little one who shrieks and squirms instantly, little claws opening and closing frantically. Smiling beneath his helmet, Din takes his ad into his arms, turning the little one to face him properly.

 _“I didn’t know it when we met, little one. I should have said it the day you saved me from the mudhorn.”_ Din can’t see the turning heads and excitable body language of the other’s, _“I should have said it when I took you back from the Imps. I should have said it many times before now.”_ Tharr can feel the building surge within his breast again, the same he’d felt every time Din made him proud. _“Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad— Jae Djarin. In front of all of clan Kyr’tsad; you’re my heir, you’re as my blood and so you will always remain. Truth, Honor, Vision.”_

 _“Bloodline is not important,”_ Din pulls Jae up to press their foreheads together, _“but you as the Father is the most valuable thing.”_

 _“This is done.”_ The Matriarch’s voice rings strong among them, _“Welcome to the Death Watch, Jae Djarin.”_

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

Din has been soaking in the tub after a thorough scrub down for fifteen minutes now. Once everyone had collected all their possessions left behind before the Trials, they were sent back to their homes to properly bathe and clean their armor for the final feast. He’d wanted to do nothing more than cuddle with his little one, Jae, but his buir was more persistent. His gear was likely being cleaned up by buir while keeping Jae occupied as well.

A small part of Din was anxious that his buir would smell he and Paz from the armor. The more pragmatic side knew that was in fact, going to be the case. How could he not? Din and Paz had spent the last two weeks together very intimately and alone. It was only natural that both Din and his armor took on that scent.

Buir was no fool, he knew what the Trials might entail for Din. He’d experienced them for himself. He knew what that meant. It could easily have been any Alpha’s scent he came home with. It didn’t stop him from worrying.

Of course, would he have come home with a courtship if it had been any other Alpha? And now that he’d come home with a courtship and announced it, accepted it… Times like these never failed to make Din feel like a child again. Running his mind in endless circles, fearing he’d somehow fail his new father. That Buir would leave, ashamed of him. He knew better than that; their relationship, the memories, he gave Din his surname and had him wear their clan’s robes for the Trials! He wouldn’t just abandon Din, it wasn’t the Way. It isn’t what Mandalorian’s do.

But still, he worries. Because the thought of disappointing Buir for even an instant, it’s too painful.

“Din!”

Snapping out of the storm of his thoughts, Din leans back to try and see the entrance of the bathing room, “Yes?”

“Clean clothes are on the counter, Jae and I will be in the armory.”

“I’m done, I’ll be there.”

Buir doesn’t respond but Din can hear him saying something to Jae as he walks away. Scooting upwards and draining the tub, Din pads into the next room to dry off and dress in the simple light brown pants and faded burgundy tunic. His helmet lays nearby and Din flips it over to inspect the inside, which his buir had cleaned, as well as polished the exterior.

Once his hair is mostly dry, he slips it onto his head and leaves to find his family. He finds them in the armory with his buir using a small tool to clean out grit from between the seams. Jae is sitting on the floor using a polishing cloth to scrub clumsily at one of Din’s boots.

Smiling, he watches the two as Tharr quietly tells Jae a story in Mando’a. It’s not one of their histories but one that all ade are told, it teaches the importance of keeping one’s beskar’gam clean as both a matter of personal pride and as respect for the sacred ore it’s made from. The tales’ trio of warrior’s go on individual quests across Madalore to collect beskar ore and fashion it into armor in their own manner, completing trials along their way.

One doesn’t live long enough to even get the beskar, lost to notions of idleness and greed. The second, finds the beskar and makes their armor, but is too hasty and disrespectful. The hastily made armor goes uncared for and it shatters during his first battle, and he dies an inglorious death. The third, she takes her time. She treats the beskar with care and coaxes it into beskar’gam, molds it with her reverence until it is as unique as her soul and just as strong. She cares for it as she cares for her clan, held to a higher standard than even herself. And so, it never fails.

It’s hard to say if Jae understands any of what is said, or even if their listening to their ba’buir at all. Tharr might just be background noise to Jae’s infantile concentration on Din’s boot. Their lifted ears however suggest that they might be listening after all.

Stepping into the room when the story ends has Jae looking up and the shriek, he gets is followed by Jae rushing over to grab at his legs. Bending down to scoop up the tiny bundle of green to his chest, Din removes his helmet to press their foreheads together.

Jae coos while little claws press and push at Din’s features, “Missed you too, womp rat.”

“boo, ba-barrgh.”

Tharr chuckles as he removes his own helmet, “We’ve been trying to work on Mando’a while you’ve been gone.”

Din crosses the small space to settle with Jae in his lap across the workspace from his buir, Jae keeping up a very serious monologue of coos and nonsensical babbling.

“We haven’t made much progress just yet. So, we’re working on sounds.”

Din smiles as Jae blows a raspberry in his direction, waving the polishing cloth about for emphasis. “Yes, I see you’ve taken to the teachings well.”

Jae points at Din, “boo!”

Din nods with a big smile, “Yes, I’m buir. Can you say that?” Din points to himself, tapping his chest “ _buir._ ”

“BOO!”

“Close enough.” Din points to his buir, “Who is that?” Jae turns to look at Tharr and points at him before looking back at Din with questioning hum. “Who is that?”

“boo, buh.”

“Is that _ba’buir_?” Jae looks back and forth between them with confusion, “ba, ba. Can you say _ba_?”

“buh”

 _“ba, ba?_ ”

“baba”

Tharr laughs at the two of them, “I’ve been trying for a while, the best I’ve got is baba.”

“Is that what we’re going to call you, baba?”

“BABA!”

Tharr snorts, “I’ll get you to say it someday. If your buir can learn basic Mando’a in less than a year, I’ll definitely get you calling me ba’buir.”

Tharr gets back to his work as Din tries to get Jae to respond to their new name, which isn’t very successful. At most, Jae thinks Din wants the polishing cloth they’ve been holding on to. Even tried to give Din the new blue robe their wearing, when Din keeps tapping their chest gently with his fingers and repeating _Jae_.

“Any particular reason you chose Jae?”

Din lets Jae slip down from his lap to play on the floor, “Not really. It just came to me.” Picking up one of his pauldrons he begins to clean it alongside the work buir has already done. “When I was clear headed enough after… my heat, it was the first name that came to me.”

Tharr nods as he turns the breastplate to another angle, “A name doesn’t have to mean anything. Jae is the one who will give it meaning in the end. Every action and choice will define them in the future. The only one who can write that tale, is Jae.”

They continue their work with Jae occasionally demanding attention from Din, but they finish both Din and Tharr’s armor with plenty of time left over before they must join the clan outside. They move themselves to the common room after setting their beskar’gam on racks, settling into the space where Jae brings Din three carved figures. Tharr explains he’s been making little figures for Jae to play with and Jae is happy to show them off.

Setting one figure on Din’s lap after waving it about excitedly and babbling, then goes to fetch another and the third. Din inspects the figures both out of genuine curiosity and to appease Jae, the carvings are made to easily fit Jae’s hands and have enough detail to be eye-catching for any ade. One of the figures is humanoid with beskar’gam, the second is a Mythosaur and the final one is an aquatic-like creature.

Jae continues babbling while waving the Mythosaur about as Din lifts the aquatic figure up and looks at his buir questioningly.

“Not sure what it’s called, but we all saw it swimming overhead four days ago. It’s large whatever it is and predatory. It went after something and kicked up quite the billow of sand in the process.”

“That must have been quite the sight.” Din lowers the figure in a serpentine motion, imitating swimming as Jae meets it halfway with the Mythosaur with a soft _clack,_ “Hope it repeats the performance, I’d like to see that.”

“It was all everybody was talking about for a while. Although, the two little one’s were a bit frightened. Jae didn’t seem to mind either way, more interested in its shadow. Courting Vizla are you?”

It takes a second before Din’s brain catches up with his buir’s words, the sudden shift in topic throwing him off entirely. It’s enough time for Jae to pull the fish from Din’s hand and smash the two figures together in a series of soft clacking noises and coos.

“Wha-”

“Just seems odd is all. I remember a boy who was in constant brawls with Vizla not so long ago.” Tharr pauses for a moment, a slight frown and serious look taking over his features, “You weren’t flirting with him back then were you?”

“Buir!”

“You would’ve just been an ade yourself, that’s not appropriate. Is there something I need to be aware of?”

“No! Buir, gedet’ye… I would never.”

“Then why court him?”

Din hesitates, “I don’t know if I love him or anything but, I don’t know. I felt good with him.”

“I thought he was all helmet and no head. Isn’t that what you’d tell me?”

“ _Elek, kaysh mirsh solus.”_

Tharr snorts and shakes his head while Din smiles, “But also, I think I like him enough to see where this may go. We’re not bonding or anything, and maybe it’s all just heat hormones.”

“But you want to try.”

“Lek…”

Tharr breathes in deep, trying to steady himself before letting it out in a huff. Din has always been a quiet child, and a good one, Tharr could not have hoped for a better ade. _It’s all part of growing up,_ his mind whispers.

_Din has always been a good son, dedicated almost to a fault. I cannot walk beside him in every phase of his life._

Tharr had prepared himself for the many stages of life a growing child would go through, he’d been proud and prepared when Din stepped into his adult life and became a beroya. He’d even been ready and proud when Jae joined their family, his son becoming a buir. Din has always been willing to work hard for the sake of the clan and its younglings. It had not been a surprise when he adopted one of his own, inevitable really.

But the possibility of Din becoming someone’s _spouse_ was… his feelings were conflicted. He wanted all the best for his son, he wanted him happy and secure. Competition was natural among Mandalorian’s and even encouraged, Din had been so fixated with his vendetta against Paz that he’d never thought this would become a possibility.

Looking at Din in this moment, he knows his son would break off the courtship in a second if his buir demanded it. Din would never look twice at Paz Vizla ever again if it pleased his buir. It doesn’t please Tharr, because he knows that some of this comes from a place of fear, abandonment. Something he’d never quite been able to truly make Din stop second-guessing. Maybe Vizla can do that. Maybe it’ll take someone other than family to make his boy see sense, that he belongs always.

Tharr has never had a problem with Paz, not even when he and Din were younger and fighting all the time. He never minded when Paz would drag Din back to him, tied up and bruised, another fight and another lesson. If anything, he found it amusing, especially since Vizla could have done a lot worse to a teen boy who attacks him regularly. Paz could have even demanded that Tharr reign his son in, but he never did. Just dumped him at Tharr’s feet and left.

When he really thinks about it, Paz is truly a suitable match to his son. If they were back on Mandalore the leaders of their two families might have approached one another to negotiate a bonding. Paz is not lacking in heritage, prowess or notoriety. His individual deeds and general personality are many things that would be looked for in a suitable Mandalorian mate. Really, Paz is the ideal spouse most Mandalorian parents would hope to have for their offspring.

Tharr is finding that his only hang-ups are all personal and stemming from his inability to let Din go. He must let him go, though. Din is grown and has a child of his own now, he’s been facing the galaxy alone for some time now. He’d just told Din that Jae would be the author of their own tale, one that could only be writ by themselves. Din has been writing his story and now he’s preparing a new chapter within it.

_Raise warriors._

“I have never known you to make foolish decisions for the sake of a whim or a laugh. This is your life Din’ika, you don’t need my blessing to live it. You are my heir, and I trust that you’re more than capable of making decisions for both you and Jae. For your family. For our family. You’re grown enough to make your choices and live with their outcomes. You’ll be the head of this clan when I am gone. Until then, you know you can always count on me to have your back.”

Din stands up to sit beside his buir with Jae in his lap, “I know buir, thank you.”

Tharr wraps his fingers in the soft curls at Din’s neck and pulls him in to touch their foreheads together.

“Well, tell me about this skull then, before we have to go to the feast.”

“Oh,” Din bites his lower lip and looks away, “um…”

Tharr stares at his flustered son in confusion, “What?”

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

Din was still a bit flustered over the conversation about the d’uul skull. He couldn’t exactly tell his buir how he’d landed the killing blow while Paz had been… well, he wasn’t about to bring that up. It had the unintended result of making Tharr suspicious, not that Din’s fumbling about for a version of the story that wasn’t quite so, telling.

The story had been shortened to its absolute basics, tracking for hours, observing the pack, picking out possible individuals, hiding in the trees…

Thankfully the clan was called to the feast before Din had to continue and before Tharr could throw any loaded questions. Din slapped his bucket on to his head, scooped up Jae and waited for his buir to meet them by the door. They set out and joined the others on their way to the clan home where the feast was being held.

The main room had been finished in the time they’d been gone during the Trials, plenty of space for the existing members and any future growth the clan might see. Food was laid out in a long row at the center of the room where everyone gathered around it with the Matriarch at the head, there was no tables to use so everything was sat on the floor with mats underneath. Tucked off to a far side was lengths of long wood, looked like there were plans for someone to begin crafting the tables at a later date.

Everyone settled into their places, the Trial participants and their families sat nearest to her and the rest of the clan filled out the rest of the space. Feasts could be a tricky thing at times like these, with everyone trying to get their fill of food and drink without being uncovered. The younglings without helmets often finished their meals first and so spent much of their time running about the hall playing games.

The eldest children had to take a little longer because of their helmets and learning to eat around so many who were not permitted to see their faces made it somewhat frustrating for them. Normally they could eat uncovered at home and so unimpeded, but this was the first time in their lives that the clan had a feast that required such communal levels of eating. Parents had to help them as a result.

Once the eldest had had their fill they too were long gone from the table and joining on the play with the other ade. Jae mostly stuck close to Din during the whole event, like the other small ade they’d finished eating some time ago and had tried to join the others in play but never went far. Not until the elder ade had joined and one of them, Din’s not sure which, had picked Jae up and were running about the hall together. Jae’s happy shrieks mixing with the sounds of the other ade.

All Mandalorian meals, feasts included, were lengthy and filled with good food and good tales. The conversations ebbed and flowed with ease, sometimes a momentary quiet took over until someone brought up a topic or story. Sometimes everyone was talking all at once. Occasionally an individual was singled out to regale the clan with a story or adventure. Tharr was the target of more than one of these. Even their Matriarch was made to tell of her own experiences with the Trials.

The night for clan Kyr’tsad was filled with merriment and dragged into the late hours of the night. Within the close quarters of their newly made clan hall they slowly bedded down one by one. The ade, as all ade are want to do, fell asleep wherever they lay. The adults also choosing to stay within the hall than go back to their private rooms for sleep.

It seemed to be the unspoken agreement of the night to settle into sleep together. Packed around one another. Maybe it was years of close quarters living that made them more reluctant to return to their own spaces, maybe everyone really was just that tired. Whatever the case, the Matriarch stepped about the room of sleeping bodies to smother the fires until the room fell to darkness, and the only sound was her seeking out her own place at the head of the room and the breathing of her clan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a  
> \---------  
> Cin vhetin - fresh start/clean slate  
> beskar - sacred ore used by Mandalorian's for armor and other purposes, mined predominantly on the home world of Mandalore  
> ade - children, sons, daughters  
> adiik - child age 3 to 13 years of age  
> bu'ad - grandchild (any gender)  
> ba'buir - grandfather/grandmother  
> Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad— Adoption vow, lit. "I know your name as my child-" this phrase is commonly followed by the name(s) of the individual(s) being adopted.  
> Kyr’tsad - Death Watch  
> beskar'gam - armor   
> gedet’ye - please  
> “Elek, kaysh mirsh solus.” - "He's an idiot" lit. "His brain cell is lonely."  
> Elek - Yes  
> Lek - Yeah  
> beroya - bounty hunter
> 
> World Building (non-canon, all of my own making)  
> \--------------------------------------------  
> The Trials - Occurring only during times when one or several members of a clan turns 26 years of age. Any member of a clan or clans can join the Trials so long as they are 26 years or older and regardless of being Alpha or Omega. Not all species in the galaxy has secondary gender traits of A/B/O but all Mando's can join the Trials
> 
> Omega Titles earned during the Trials (listed from minor honor to highest):  
> 1 - "Phantom" title is given to Omegas whose scent is found (traceable) but the Omega is still difficult to find, any Omega exceeding 20 hour mark can earn this minor title  
> 2 - "Mirage" minor title awarded to Omegas who are found but are able to get away during honorable combat and remain un-found/un-mated for the length of the Trials  
> 3 - "Unattainable" rare title awarded to Omegas who remain entirely undisturbed for the entire length of the Trials, these Omegas are untraceable and go completely unseen. It is not necessary to be virginal before or after the Trials to obtain this award, it is skill alone that earns one this title.  
> 4 - "Soul of Mandalore" extremely rare title awarded to Omegas who fight off every Alpha and/or Challenger for the full length of the Trials (two weeks). Sometimes called the Suicide, because this title has only been given to Omegas who have ultimately died after defeating every challenger. They literally fight until their body gives out. Only two Omegas in Mando history have lived long enough to earn their title personally and both died from exhaustion hours later. This title is commonly awarded posthumously (after death).


	14. Beginning Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait for an update, my internet was not having it for a time and now Microsoft Word is doing weird things, words in size 12 font look like size 6?? No matter how much I change the settings. Weird. Here's hoping any spelling errors or typos got caught lol
> 
> I am officially closing the prompts now, and once they are written we’ll be getting into some major plot.
> 
> This chapter is also a transitional piece to segue from the Trials and into the prompts you guys gave me, there's POV switches but like previous chapters it hopefully won't give you whiplash.

The morning after the feast saw many of the clan helping to put things back to order in efficient manner and allowing everyone to return to home and begin an entirely new routine of daily life. Their lives until now had been the coming and going of those permitted above the surface and those left to sit in the dark space of the tunnels of Nevarro. Life had been around socialization⸺ because you could not exactly get away from anyone⸺ and wrangling the ade for their lessons. It had been about guarding their exit points from outsiders and mischievous younglings trying to sneak topside. There was the general upkeep of the clan and its overall supplies, there had been little and a lot to do all at once.

Now clan Kyr’tsad had much to do now that all its living members were together again. The main clan home was finished in construction and the more personal huts were being worked on, plumbing was figured out once those who knew such skills had worked up a plan and gave everyone else their marching orders on completing it.

It was back breaking work with even the ade helping by running water and food around to anyone that needed it. They were quite proud of themselves for that, even if a few scuffles over hierarchy and who did what broke out. The adults typically ignored the behavior, waiting with their ears tuned in to see if they could work it out among themselves without adult intervention. There had been some shoving, name calling, hitting and a few whines and tears from the littlest one’s but they had eventually worked out their own system and their jobs within it.

Even if some of those jobs were convoluted and had odd rules, but the Mandalorian’s strongly believed in letting their children learn to be a proper clan by interfering as little as possible with their social structure. It gave the eldest a chance to prove their knowledge and flex a little authority while also testing their restraint in decision making, working together and ability to be fair with their clan mates. The little one’s learned from the eldest through imitation and trial, pushing themselves to be seen as one of the big kids. They learned what limits they could exceed and what they couldn’t, emotional restraint was a large part of their development since they could not physically out-do the older ade. Fairness as a result was more important to them than anything at that stage. In short, the ade learned from one another as much as they learned from their elders.

Jae was a bit of an outlier in this area, older in age than any of the ade but developmentally younger. It didn’t stop the other ade from engaging Jae in play or offering the chance to help them perform their duties. Jae had initially been running water and food to Tharr and Din only, as much as Jae could run. It had been a bit humorous to see Jae not understand and simply eat and drink whatever they were given. A great deal of prompting from the other ade showing Jae what to do had finally got the idea across, but only so far.

Initial attempts had seen Jae spill more water from the tiny cup than was in it, lots of time had been spent with Jae just figuring out how to scoop up the water and keep it in the cup. Transporting the cup of water had been another issue as well. By the time Jae got to Tharr or Din the water was long gone, spilled down Jae’s tunic or leaving a trail of it behind, leaving Tharr and Din to pretend to drink the bare traces left inside. After a great deal of this, Din had to encourage Jae to offer water to the other Mando’s who were working, pointing out the other ade taking food and water to them.

Inevitably everyone got a chance to drink Jae’s cup of non-water, including Paz who made the effort to be extra grateful and talkative, layering on the praise. Everyone also made every opportunity to call Jae by their new name as it was very clear they had yet to understand that was in fact their name. Jae often ignored anyone calling out to them for their attention when their name was used but saying ad’iik or ad’ika often got their attention. Clearly Jae thought those were their name and it would take the efforts of everyone to ensure that Jae learned their proper name.

Thanks to everyone’s efforts the trenches for plumbing were done and the Matriarch had retreated with Xet, Vrossun, Ramar and Zel to discuss forging the pipes and the engineering. Xet had learned the skills behind plumbing from his buir’s mate Vrossun, Ramar was their lead in engineering and Zel was studying the skills of an armorer. Among them the plans would be made for what was needed to complete the project in a timely manner.

The rest of the clan retreated to their homes for a necessary meal and break, as Paz was walking by with his ade ranging ahead of him he gently bumped his shoulder into Din’s catching his gaze behind their visors. They didn’t say anything to one another, but Din felt the heat behind the gaze and a slight longing to be with him again. The moment did not last as Paz followed his ade back to their own hut and Din collected his own family to return home.

Jae had refused to be picked up so the Djarin’s made their way home at a slower pace than the others, but once there they racked their beskar’gam and used the sonic showers. Din moved to the kitchen after redressing in fresh clothes and checked on the boiling pot. Buir and Jae were settling into the karyai where Jae floated the carved toys to their position.

Din can make out the sounds of the two of them talking, or what amounts to talking for Jae, and he carefully stirs the pot while trying not to be blinded from the strong herbs turning the air into a fragrant spice bomb. Sipping the potent concoction carefully and deciding its ready he drops the heat to a simmer and turns to begin laying out their actual plates and cutlery, slicing thick sections of bread into cubes for dipping.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

The following morning Din was called to the clan home to meet with Nioth and Vha in the medical section of the clan home. Entering through the main entrance and passing the Armorer’s forge Din enters the medical room to find Jaral and Xil already in attendance and removing their upper beskar’gam to easily expose their arms. Everyone pauses at his entrance, but he nods to his fellow Got’din and the two medics, before stepping further into the room and beginning to remove his own upper beskar’gam.

Vha Cryrn is an Ad’dinu female just a bit older than Xil, where Nioth has brighter colored beskar’gam hers is muted in the colors of grey and black and her breastplate has the medic sigil splashed on its right side in faded violet. She looks less like someone in the medical corps and more like a stealth operative, which is the point. Vha has training not just as a medic but is specialized in secret operations and one of the clan’s hackers, specializing more in crippling enemy technology for her squad than in taking information, though she can do that if given the time.

Vha and Nioth are the clan’s main medics, servicing the clan for serious injuries and illnesses. Between them Nioth not only has the more experience but operates predominantly in the Medical Corp. and holds the title of Jah’ad, doctor. Vha has the training and the drive to be Nioth’s medical second, while not a doctor she is still an official medic and under Nioth’s training is steadily making her way to the rank necessary to be called Jah’ad. The two Ad’din work well together and do so almost seamlessly.

“Alright vod, you and Vizla sneak away during or after the feast last night?”

Din is brought to a shocked stillness as Xil and Jaral sit back quietly and watch the interaction, “Why would we?”

Nioth turns to answer for Vha, “We need to be aware of the last time you were physically intimate to give you the proper dosage and a follow up if necessary.”

Before he can say anything Vha speaks up again, “Right so, when was the last time you and Paz had vaginal sex? Did he _brii’tay_ you after?”

Jaral and Xil are trying hard not to be rude and out-right laugh at Din, but they’re laughing. Din is himself still feeling like he’s lost brain cells suddenly, between his buir and the near awkward conversation about the d’uul he’s not sure he’s ever going to recover from any of this. Especially with Vha asking if Paz had knotted him after their possible interaction.

“Not since the night of the last day.”

He barely manages to mumble the words out of his mouth and sits slowly to Jaral’s right side, clutching the sleeves of his suit that he allows to hang unzipped around his waist. Nioth and Vha are turned away doing whatever medics do, he feels a light nudge to his bare shoulder from equally bare skin and turns to find Jaral tipping his head towards him.

“They asked the same thing about me and Khamrah. I’m kinda hoping they won’t want details, pervs.”

The comment makes Din huff a small laugh and even Xil snickers on Jaral’s left. They compose themselves when the two Ad’dinu turn back and begin to administer the shots with Xil being tended first by Nioth, then Jaral by Vha. Din gets his shot from Nioth as Vha is turning to dispose of the medical equipment.

Nioth goes on to espouse the potential effects or signs of allergic reaction to the shots and to return immediately if anything is amiss, Din nods along with Xil and Jaral to the instructions with Vha cutting in at the end to remind them to come back the next week so they can be certain no pregnancy has occurred anyway.

The two medics set about taking their vitals as they are now and each of the three Got’din undergoes pelvic exams. They don’t see one another undergo the exam but they’re in the same room, a general precaution for witnesses to be there when the only medics are Ad’dinu. No one expects anything untoward to happen, but nobody wants the risk either. Plus, for Din and Jaral it’s a comfort having Xil there as quiet support as they undergo this exam for the first time, with her being the more experienced of the three.

Had either of them been sexually active enough to warrant such an exam it likely would have occurred sooner, but Din had only had oral sex and Jaral had been a bit more experienced in that he had done some anal prior to the Trials. Nioth had also been a bit more cautious about doing sensitive pelvic exams while in the underground tunnels on Nevarro, he’d always raged about how unsanitary he felt his medical wing was. He’d worried for the general health of the clan, never mind giving such internal exams in an environment not up to medical standard. Short of something being actually wrong or prompting the need to do an exam, Nioth and Vha had been very hesitant to perform more than a standard exam.

For the second time in his life an Ad’din was sticking their fingers inside of him, clinical as it was, and verbally noting the conditions of his health down _there_ for Vha to notate in his medical file, he’d finally been cleared to put his clothes and beskar’gam back on.

The snug rightness of his beskar’gam resting against his body again made him feel more secure and not exposed as he’d been, following after Xil and Jaral as they parted from the two medics. Exiting the rooms, they found Zel leaning against one wall in her heavy leather clothes and royal blue helmet with silver lace etching around the visor.

“Din, Avell wishes to see you.” Saying her piece she turns to walk away and Xil and Jaral also leave, all of them turning to different directions.

Din follows the path back the way he’d come and passes the large karyai where the feast had taken place, entering the forge where Phoraah Avell works with singular focus. The ringing sound of her tool’s bounces about the room with metallic _twangs_ lit by blue flames.

Din sits quietly before the same small table he’d sat at when he’d brought the camtono of beskar ore to the clan on Nevarro. The same table where Paz had called him a coward and tried to lift the buy’ce from his head and nearly fought with him with vibroblades.

Funny how quickly things change, were it not for his own decisions during the course of his recent days he’d think fate was interfering with his life and forcing him to be a buir and throwing the curve ball of Paz as his courting mate. They were all his decisions in the end, he could have left Jae to the clutches of the Imps and continued his life as it had been, he could have denied Paz the chance to court him. He could have done many things, but he’d made his choices and intended to see them through.

Wherever they took him.

A heavy sliding sound disrupts his thoughts and Din watches the Matriarch slip something into another piece of equipment and the doors slide shut, she turns back to set her tools down in their proper places before turning to face Din as she rounds the forge to sit on the other side of the table.

_“You asked for me.”_

_“I did.”_ She carefully lays a flat, almost bracelet size metal down on the table between them, _“Your token for your title.”_

Din leans forward and places his hands at each end of the piece, it’s made with beskar from the looks of it, probably scraps from his deal on Nevarro. The piece is designed with incredible detail for being so small and delicate looking, Din looks up at the his alor and breathes a quiet, _“Thank you.”_

She dips her own helm slightly, _“You and Xil have earned high regard within the clan for your individual strengths, your diligence to duty and your actions in the Trials. For you both, I have crafted these chains from the remaining beskar into the likeness of a stathas.”_

The meaning behind the creatures is not lost on Din, stathas are well known in the Mandalore sector for their seemingly harmless appearance, an evolutionary trait that hides the venomously deadly ability in their sleek, reptilian forms. The comparison to such a creature, is deeply flattering coming from his clans Matriarch and Alor.

_“You may choose its placement,”_ the chain is picked up as she stands and turns to her tools, _“upon your armor or a weapon, the choice is yours.”_

Din considers all the possibilities to place this new token of honor. In the end he offers up his amban rifle and watches her solder the piece to the left side of its action. Now, it will always be on display. A reminder of his personal accomplishments.

_“You have done much in such a small frame of time, Din Djarin.”_

He looks back up from the inspection of his rifle, _“After Tharr was sent afield for a long reconnaissance, you stayed behind and took up your buir’s duties to provide for the clan.”_

Here she walks back towards her forge and adjusts the flames, _“As a foundling you adopted our way of life and spoke our language, bore the weight of your helmet and swore to live by the Creed when you were old enough.”_

Avell places something within the flames and watches it closely, _“I knew that one day - should you swear yourself to the Creed and walk the path of the Mandalor, you would bring much honor to the clan and your buir. As a child you brought your first kill from a hunt before me as a gift and fed the clan. As a man you have continued to provide for your clanmates.”_

_“Your Trials and this most recent run-in with the Imperials and the child have brought forth many challenges for you.”_ Scooping the liquid up she turns to her tool cabinet and opens it, pouring the liquid beskar into a mold. _“All these things, from the mudhorn to now. I have had much to think on.”_

Picking up a hammer on a long handle she turns at the waist to face Din who is still beside the table, _“This is the Way.”_

_“This is the Way.”_

She turns back to the mold and strikes it three times, she then picks up the steaming mold with tongs and transfers it into another piece of equipment where a pressurizing hiss is heard, _“You have earned your signet.”_

She walks to Din’s right side and he stands just a little straighter, so her work is not tilted, as she solders his signet to his pauldron in a wash of sparks. When she is finished, she steps back as he cranes his neck and shoulder to see the mudhorn that now adorns his pauldron. Turning to face her head on Din seeks out her eyes behind the T-visor of her own helm,

_“Thank you. I will wear this with honor.”_

The Matriarch steps into his space and reaches up to pull his head to meet with her own, the rough leather of her forge gloves scrapes the back of his neck but it’s warm.

_“It suits you.”_

Din feels a slight swelling in his breast, she doesn’t show this kind of affection often.

_“And so does he.”_

Before Din can find his voice she’s already walking to another side of the forge.

_“I have one more gift. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”_

_“Not since I was a boy.”_

_“Then this will make you complete.”_ She faces him holding a jetpack, walking around the back of him she mounts the newly acquired tool to his back and the weight is not significant. Perfectly tailored to fit Din and his armor.

_“Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”_

_“I understand.”_

_“Paz will help you begin your drills until you can reliably fly alone.”_

_“uh-ah, yes. Matriarch. Thank you.”_

_“You must also know that, as with all parents of young children, you will not be permitted to leave the covert until Jae is older.”_ Din is ready to protest when she speaks up again, _“Just as it was for your buir when you joined him as his son, so too will you stay within the clan until Jae is old enough to be responsible for themselves. And even then, you will not be permitted to take extended missions.”_

_“Yes, Chief. I understand.”_

_“Good. You may leave.”_

Giving a brief but respectful bow, Din turns away and leaves his leader to her duties. Nodding to Zel on his way out to let her know she can reenter the forge as he passes, he turns to head for his family’s hut.

He’s not sure how to feel about being effectively grounded from doing the one thing that he’s spent his whole life training for, but then… as a Mandalorian, he’s been trained to the duty of raising a family as well. It’s part of the Six Actions, to raise warriors. It is as essential as wearing beskar’gam or speaking Mando’a. And he knows, he knows he could never just leave Jae someplace far out of his sight and be comfortable doing so for the sake of a job. Some jobs can take weeks, they can take him to the various corners of the galaxy.

If he’s not there for Jae, to protect Jae… Tharr would protect Jae, but Din’s not so sure even that reassurance could keep him from worrying. If he’s worried and distracted during a job, it wouldn’t be good. It would be a disaster, maybe even a fatal one.

So, he’ll accept that his wings have been clipped. He could think of much worse reasons to be kept from doing his job for the clan, and by now the others are surely itching to get above ground themselves. Besides, his wings are not really clipped. The Matriarch certainly softened the blow with his new gift, and he can’t wait to start training.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

The rest of the week passes in this slow domestic pace towards normalcy, where Din spends his time with his family and his duties to the clan. The plumbing is quickly finished, and everyone is quick to enjoy their heated baths and functional kitchens. The huts are much easier to finish, many of the clan had already made good progress on their homes and it was only a matter of two days before everyone’s homes were properly surfaced and finished. Prospects turned quickly to setting up the fields for farming and designated spaces for potential future growth and areas proper for the ade to begin more practical training.

The ade needed no prompting to roam their new home freely, even though they were still literally underground the environment was as wide open as that above. The potential of the space they now had in abundance was quickly seized upon with relish, the ade could now be properly instructed as true Mandalorian’s in training without inhibitions.

Training schedules divided by age group were set up by the Matriarch, she personally saw to the ade learning the histories, lore and strategy of being Mando’ade. She taught them their clan’s histories and traditions. The buir’s of the ade taught more personal family histories and traditions, Mando’a spoken and written, common educational knowledge such as arithmetic, weapon and medical lessons and specialized skill sets. In the communal lessons the ade learned the same skills of training that all Mando learn; hunting, physical conditioning, medical/herbal studies, the basics of hand to hand combat for the eldest children, the beginnings of combat movement for the youngest. Even basic weapons talk was being taught, the capabilities of different weapons and their weaknesses, safety training and more.

The space also allowed the adults to more freely spar with one another and it was not uncommon for the ade to watch in fascination, leading to even further lessons as a result. The adults were all too happy to engage each other with bets and boasting, sometimes telling the children someone’s weakness in the middle of a sparring session just loud enough to be heard, resulting in another bout of physical sparring. It was all in good fun of course, even if the comments got rather snarky and personal.

By midweek Din is quietly singing the words to the Resol’nare for Jae while pointing out the people and objects of the song, hoping that the words and the cues will help Jae associate the words properly. Although it was a bit difficult to try and associate the words for _education_ , _self-defense_ and _our language_ in a way that would not be confusing. The words for _armor, tribe_ and _leader_ were easier to get across when he could tap his armor, indicate the tribe walking about around them and their leader, though not herself the Manda’alor was in visible sight to be indicated.

Jae was yet too young to have the Six Actions defined as one would with the ade who could verbally communicate but Din tried as much as he could to get the idea across. Although his buir had laughed more than once when finding Din trying to explain written Mando’a to Jae as though the ad could understand as an adult, he’d been writing in the dirt the words he was telling Jae only for the little one to shove their own hands into the earth and mess it all about in a flurry of waving and laughs.

Din saw Paz only in passing and in the distance that first week of truly being home with no other duties requiring him to leave. Paz seemed to be one of the main instructors for all the clans ade, often accompanied by one or more of the other adults but typically Paz was the primary instructor for the ade’s physical lessons. He was good at it, he kept them engaged across their age groups without being too hard or too lenient. Paz was happy enough to tolerate the questions, jokes, and the abilities of the various ade to sit still for a lesson.

More than once, Din witnessed Paz teaching the ade while making them perform some unrelated physical action. It wasn’t until Din had been able to witness a whole lesson with Jae watching on his lap that he figures out why. All the ade were young, the eldest one’s not much more than nine or ten years of age, the youngest were tiny things of only four years and then there were those who appeared to be somewhere in between.

Like all children across such an age gap they were notoriously incapable of sitting still for too long, in many ways nothing was more purely Mando’ade than the actual ade. Always ready for action, never abiding stillness. Paz readily took advantage of that and turned what other instructor’s might see as disruptive behavior and turned it into a chance to keep the ade’s attention through using their bodies excess physical energy, Din could see this being very valuable to the ade in their futures. This constant state of movement encouraged by Paz meant these ade would have vast amounts of stamina to call upon as they grew older, they’d be able to excel physically where others may tire.

Paz was molding the ade into absolute terrors for their enemies.

It was encouraging to watch Paz interact with his own ade and that of the clan’s other ade, Din honestly felt he could be comfortable with letting Jae train under Paz when Jae was old enough. For now, Din sat with Jae as they watched Paz take the ade through their warmup routines and basic combat movements. When Jae began to become bored Din stood up and encouraged Jae to follow him, walking about the perimeter Din would ask Jae in Mando’a to bring him an object to test the little one’s jetii capabilities.

Din was aware by now how limited Jae’s use of their ability was, how tired they could become with an action too big. So far doing little things like floating toys to their hand or pushing them away did not seem to be too taxing and asking Jae to bring him a pebble or other light object on their walks also did not seem to be pushing things. Din occasionally tested Jae’s limits for distance though, asking for an object no bigger than the usual non-tiresome type, asking Jae to set it in his hand.

Jae’s range seemed to be anywhere from ten to fifteen feet, anything further seemed to be about as taxing as a large object or the object appeared to be unaffected by Jae’s attempts. Din had no way of knowing if this ability could grow in the future or by how much it would do so, though the Matriarch’s stories of the jetii seemed to suggest that Jae may become very adept in their abilities.

It was encouraging to know that Jae had the ability to possibly save themself and that lifted Din’s anxieties a bit, although it meant Din had to create a proper training method and schedule for Jae. At the moment he was encouraging Jae’s abilities and teaching Mando’a at the same time, his current methods involved taking Jae for these twice daily walks and asking for things.

Jae was already beginning to associate their walks with their ability to push or pull an object, to levitate it into Din’s waiting hands. Sometimes Jae would, as any child on a walk, would select fauna or other eye-catching objects to give to Din. More than once Jae had plucked a flower or special rock to give to Din but instead of levitating it Jae would attempt to just hand it to Din. He had had to gently encourage Jae to levitate the object instead, which had caused a small amount of confusion and a fair bit of whining on Jae’s part when Din refused to just take the object.

Eventually they made their way around the perimeter and found Paz and the ade missing, though really their lessons were likely over by now, making their way home with Din’s hands full of fauna and rocks that Jae apparently liked. Jae had nearly thrown a fit when Din had just tossed them aside when they’d finished their lessons, eyes full of tears and big ears drooping.

When they got home, Din left Jae and the random objects in the karyai while he assisted his buir with the domestic chores of cleaning their home. Eventually Jae fell asleep on the floor sprawled among toys and debris from their lesson.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

When Din announced their courting before the clan that first night back, Paz had been full of so many emotions. He’d felt pride for both the chance to court Din and the fact that he had been the one to earn the coveted right where others had not. Standing beside the handsome beroya in his unpainted beskar’gam before the clan had been a rush. There was the swelling love he felt for the other as well, it was growing with each passing moment and he wondered how he’d gone so long never noticing this attraction before.

Before, Din was a quiet boy who had grown into an annoying teenager, constantly pestering Paz with his challenges and accusations. It had always seemed like Din was raving mad over the littlest things back then, more so when Paz had begun to earn his rank and the right to use it. Din had been unfailing and unapologetic in his quest to be that one young recruit who questioned everything. Every order, every plan and every decision. Of course, Paz had taken the disrespect out on Din’s hide more than once.

He could recall towering over a teenaged Din, their helms pressed aggressively close as he’d yelled or hissed an order to run laps or made the other re-do physical training sessions several times more than the others. Back then he called Din out on everything from his form in training and exercise routines to his literal physical form. Din had, and in many ways still was, been tiny. Like some teen boys Din had entered into puberty small and thin, he wasn’t the smallest male Got’din among the recruits, but he’d been laughably puny compared to Paz. Especially given his feisty and borderline nasty fighting spirit.

A part of Paz had always admired the others fighting spirit, even when the odds were so stacked against him. He probably could have got over it were it not for Din’s incredible ability to maintain a willingness to fight, the constant disrespect Paz had been faced with had not been what he’d been prepared to deal with. He’d been older than Din back then but being a little older did not mean he’d been ready to deal with someone like Din. He’d prepared himself to become a great instructor to the recruits, he was proud of his own personal accomplishments and like many young people in his twenties he’d been high on life and ready to face it open and willing. And apparently naïve.

Din had shattered all of that well before he’d finished his introduction speech to the recruits. That moment onward lead to years’ worth of fighting and resentment. Paz had not been mature enough, as it turned out, to handle the inferno that had been Din Djarin. He yelled and emoted and became physical as much as Din had. It was a time of embarrassment for Paz, to have easily been led from his personal self-discipline by a boy. That stung his pride.

When he thinks back on as many of those moments as he can remember, he’s not really that sure Din was as bratty as all that. Din had still been a quiet boy even as a teenager, though Paz had thought of it more as a sullen silence back then. Although that probably had more to do with Din likely glaring at him in a sullen silence before or after one of their fights. But even so, he has a growing fondness for the memories of the scrawny teen refusing to give up no matter how many times Paz berated him or made him start over on something. Din could glare with the force of a billion imploding suns, chest heaving and sweaty from his drills, legs and arms shaking with anger and exhaustion. And Din never hesitated to enter the ring against him, if Paz called him out even when he was too physically weary to put up a real fight, he still stood his ground facing Paz with his head held high.

That’s the man Paz sees when they announce their courting, it’s the quiet but fierce warrior with whom Paz is honored to stand beside. A perfect Mandalorian mate in every way. Din has truly grown into his own, and while Paz has a lot of shame connected to his actions of the past, he can’t help loving the memory of the feisty boy that made this man.

The other emotions Paz feels are excitement and trepidation. He wearily watches Tharr Djarin inspecting the d’uul skull he’d offered as a courting gift. The man’s hands travel slowly and methodically over every plane and ridge on the skull, lingering on possible imperfections that Paz wonders if he’s missed during his preparations for the skull. Flipping it end over end, rotating at angles Paz hadn’t thought to look at. But finally, the other Ad’din accepts the gift and Paz is stepping back to watch Din announce his vows to adopt the little one. Jae Djarin.

_A little name for such a little adiik._ He thinks as he watches Din hold Jae close as he and the clan recite their half of the vows. _If Jae becomes anything like Din, the little name is not going to be a reflection of their personality at all. Jae will likely be as much trouble as Din was._

The vows being said, and all ceremony having been dispensed with, the clan separates to return to their own homes to prepare for the feast. Paz has no opportunity to talk with or interact further with Din when his own ade swarm his legs at all sides. Xoeth, Khal and Trath take up most of the space at his sides and front, little Caz is forced to squeeze himself awkwardly between Paz’ legs and has wrapped his little limbs around the left leg.

Paz chuckles and scoops his three eldest into his arms and lifts them all easily up to press his helm to theirs. They immediately respond after their shrieks by pressing their own little helmet covered heads to his. Setting them down, he pulls Caz off his leg and throws the shrieking four year old into the air and catches him around his tiny torso, pulling the boy in to his face where Caz locks his thin arms around his neck and presses kisses to the helmets cheek and about where his own lips are beneath the helmet.

Dropping Caz to rest on his hip he uses his free hand to wave the eldest close again and hugs them one-armed, “How are my little warrior’s? Did you behave while I was gone?”

He waves off Ka and Jhia, the mothers of Xoeth and Khal respectively, he wants the kids with him instead of passing them back to their buir’s. The ade all talk at once as he moves them steadily towards their hut, herding them through the door and into the baths.

When they first had settled in this underground ecosystem, Paz had the option of housing his family within the main clan home or having one for himself. At first, he’d wanted the kids safely tucked into the clan home for security reasons, but the longer they had stayed on the planet the more he found himself wanting to spread out. It had been so long since they had been able to properly get space from one another in the clan, he didn’t want to deny his ade nor himself the chance to experience their own real home.

So, he’d designed the hut to have three sleeping quarters and the other amenities that Tharr and many of the older Mandalorian’s, who could remember what true vheh’yaime were supposed to be and were meant to have. He felt proud of the large home he’d made for his family. Well, the older Mando’s said these were all quite small compared to real vheh’yaime but it was more than Paz could recall ever having and his ade were very thrilled with the endless space they had inside and out. The ade could literally go _out_ now, instead of running through the passages of the Nevarro sewer.

That made Paz the happiest. All four of his children had only known Nevarro as their home, Xoeth and Khal had been born in those sewers and Trath and Caz had lived dangerous lives above until they’d joined the clan below. He’d always wanted better for all of them, they deserved better than to call a sewer system their home.

For the Mando’s of Paz and Din’s age groups however, they had been uncertain of the unneeded space, it felt permanent. More than they’d ever known in their lives and it was just a bit unsettling, though they were all acclimating well with each passing day.

Some of the adults, they resided in their own personal huts now, but others still wanted the close quarters of the main clan home. Jhia was among them, she had rooms within the main clan home for herself and Khal, while Ka lived with their son Xoeth and her mate and twin children in their own hut.

Paz is removing his armor as his children help to set the pieces aside inside his own home and he wonders if one day he’ll be doing this with Din at his side as his mate.

“Buir,” Khal turns to face him having removed her own helmet, her chin length blonde hair braided back along her head is pressed flat from the helmet, “we helped gather water earlier for the bath so it could be hot when you got home.”

“Thank you, Khal.”

“I helped too!” Caz shouts from where he’s sitting beside Paz’s ankle, plucking at his boots.

“Thank you, Caz. I bet you made sure everyone did it just right?”

“uhmmmm,” Paz can’t help but chuckle as the little platinum haired tot takes his time answering leading to Trath quietly speaking up.

“We all helped, remember Caz?”

“Yeah but I’m a little boy and that means, that uh- I had to do more, cause I’m little and can’t hold as much as they, you can.”

Paz kneels down, “Is that right? You had to do all this extra work because your little?”

“Yeah, I spilled lots- a lot of waters and Khal and Trath had to help me, cause I’m littler than them.”

“Wow, that’s a big job!” Paz smiles at his eldest children while he humors Caz’ sweet little rambles, sitting down and pulling his own helmet off before reaching for his boots. “You’re gonna be really strong one day.”

“Yeah, I’m gone be biggerer than um, uh than…” Caz trails off while he’s trying to think of whatever is bigger and the other ade are setting their own clothes aside to bathe with their buir. Paz finally reaches down to help Caz out of his clothes, and they enter the sonic showers first before settling into the hot waters of the tub.

Paz takes his time relaxing and enjoying being with his ade again, they’re as lively as they’ve ever been and with five people in the tub, water is being splashed about everywhere as the kids all swim about or perform tricks they think are particularly amazing. But Paz loves every moment of it, he loves his ade being small and sweet. Even when they’re not, even when they’re fighting.

Once everyone is clean and redressed, Paz and the kids gather his armor and they help him take it to their personal armory. He likes this place most, a place to clean his armor and tend his gear without being cramped inside a small room maneuvering around napping children and to finally have a proper place to rack weapons and armor and miscellaneous supplies. Now, the ade have space to spread out and there is still room for all his needs and the needs of his quickly growing ade.

He accounted for the space of his growing family when he designed the armory, he wanted space for his children to be able to store their own gear here without trouble. Maybe, Din and Jae would be racking gear here too someday? For now though, it suits Paz’ needs and the minimal requirements for his three eldest to maintain their helmets and learn from Paz.

The family sits together cleaning all their gear with Caz helping Paz until he’s bored and begins to prattle on about whatever comes to mind and his eldest all chime in with their own stories and topics, filling the rooms spaces up with voices and laughter. When they have finally finished and everyone has moved to the karyai, an altogether interesting concept, imagine having a whole room for one family just to gather in!

They play for a bit and Paz breaks up the odd argument before they’re called to leave for the feast, gathering everyone and making sure they’re properly adorned they leave and join the others headed for the clan home.

Within they mill about until everyone is settled and Din is looking so handsome in his gleaming beskar’gam as he always is, Jae sitting in his lap. The night progresses with good food and drinks, the sounds of all twelve ade running about after their bellies are full and the adults trading stories and tales, boasts and laughs. Time slips by Paz, watching Din slowly adjust to being around so many people at a single time.

He’s still not as open as he could be, but he’s loosening up with his buir nearby and the comfort of not being entirely the center of attention. Sometimes their visors meet, and Din will pause, and their eyes seek out one another’s hidden away, it never lasts long with so many people vying for each other’s attentions.

Paz is pulled into more than one conversation, some of them trying to pry information out of him about his mating with Din. He declines politely to say anything, especially within possible hearing distance of said person of topic and that person’s buir. But as the night wears on and everyone is continuing to enjoy the festivities, he maybe lets one or two small details slip.

Before he knows it the whole clan is settling down and the hall is becoming quiet, the ade are laying about the space individually or in little heaps and the adults are all bedding down themselves. Paz settles back against a wall as Trath, pulling a whining Caz behind him, settles down in his lap and Caz collapses beside him. He can just see Tharr across the room, adjusting himself into a comfortable position with Din slumped against his shoulder and Jae snoring peacefully between them.

He’s vaguely aware of the Matriarch progressing around the room and putting out the lights, slowly encompassing the hall in darkness. She pauses beside him for a moment before she snuffs the light near him and his sleeping sons and watches her head to the only place still with light. Once she reaches the head of the room, she quietly observes them a moment more and then the lights go out.

He tries to pick out the sounds of Din’s breathing within the hall full of bodies but of course it’s for naught, and he settles his mind with the thought that he gets to spend the next however long courting Din. He falls asleep to the thought of being a step closer to earning the right to call Din Djarin his mate.

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

It’s the morning of his second day being home and after helping with the digging yesterday and his normal duties both to their clans Alor and to the clan itself, not to mention his own family, Paz finally has a moment for a normal morning with his ade. The ade had slept with Paz in his room in the Vizla family home and he’d been woken to their restless shifting and less than subtle attempts to quietly sneak out of the bedding.

Inevitably rising with his children and making breakfast to the sounds of their voices in the bathroom he sets everything down on their small table before going to check on the kids and make himself just a bit more presentable before eating.

Following the children who are a lot more awake than Paz feels, they all sit around the table and food is passed out quickly to avoid any early morning scuffles. Especially while Paz is still barely waking, unlike his kids whose only mode is sleep or not asleep, no in-between.

Caz noisily grabs his water cup and slurps at the water within, pale blue-grey eyes shifting from one to the other of his siblings faces. Khal and Trath also seem to be having a private conversation without words, occasionally their eyes meet, and they look to Xoeth before looking at their buir.

Huffing an exasperated sigh and ignoring his breakfast with an annoyed frown thrown at his siblings, Xoeth sits a little straighter, “Buir.”

Their father only grunts in a tired way and Xoeth frowns before calling again, “ _Buir._ ” Finally gaining their fathers attention fully he presses on, “Are you and ba’vo⸺”

“Are you getting married?”

Xoeth rolls his eyes with a tired sigh while Khal snickers and Trath just shakes his head, leave it to Caz to just blurt things out without giving their elder brother a chance to tactfully question their buir.

Looking from one child to the next, Paz chuckles and musses Caz’ still messy bedhead, “No verd’ika, I’m not getting married.”

Caz looks to his siblings before whining, “But, everyone said you were! That’s what bonding means.”

Paz is about to respond but Xoeth beats him to it, “No it’s not. Bonding is the special connection you make when two mates bite the other’s mating glands. Marriage is just an agreement to stay together lawfully.”

“But,” Caz looks between everyone at the table, “everybody said buir was getting married. I heard them say so!”

“It’s not the same thing, Caz.” Trath is always gentler when speaking to Caz, like Din he has soft voice and does not speak often, but when he does it is rarely without cause.

“Marriage is when you love someone so much you want to spend the rest of your life with them and raise a family. It’s an agreement to stay together because of love.”

“Then what’s bonding mean?”

Paz quickly interrupts, “Bonding Caz, is a very special thing that only adults and people in love should do.” Reaching up to his own neck and touching the scent gland he continues, “To bond with someone means you bite their scent gland and they bite yours. When you do this, your individual scents become one and a link is formed between you and that person. It’s a very special link, it allows you to feel your bonded’s emotions as easily as you feel your own. This link is what we call a bond.”

Leaning over to cup the boys little head in one hand, “You should never, ever force someone to bond with you and someone should never force you to bond with them either. It is a very special and sacred bond, one that should not be tainted. No one can be happy in a bond that has no love. Do you understand?”

Caz hums quietly, “I guess.”

Paz smiles, “That’s good enough for now. You have a long time before you do anything like that.”

“What about you, buir?”

Khal is looking directly at him, her hazel studying him with a sharp intellect. “Do you still have a long time?”

Paz huffs, “Alright, alright. Your ba’vodu and I are _only_ courting.” Caz’s head snaps up and Paz rushes to finish, “But we are not bonding or getting married. Courting just means⸺” a heavy sigh leaves his chest “it just means that we are still deciding if we want to get married. We’re dating, getting to know one another better before we can make any decision.”

“So, not a no.” Trath murmurs.

“Definitely not a no.” Xoeth remarks, sharing a smirk with Khal and Trath.

“It’s more complicated than that.” Paz shakes his head as Caz throws his hands in the air with an aggrieved, “I don’t understand adults.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a  
> _________________  
> Kyr'tsad - Death Watch  
> beskar'gam - armor  
> karyai - common room  
> ade - children, sons, daughters  
> adiik - child age 3 to 13  
> ad'ika - Little One  
> Got'din - lit. Birth-Giver, word created by MissTeaVee to denote the Omega class/secondary sex that applies across any gender/non-gendered person in A/B/O verse  
> Ad'din - lit. Child Gifter, word created by MissTeaVee to denote the Alpha class/secondary gender that applies across any gender/non-gender person in A/B/O verse  
> Jah'ad - Doctor  
> vod - brother, sister, comrade, mate  
> brii'tay - knot (in this instance I used this word to refer to the act of knotting during intercourse)  
> buy'ce - helmet  
> alor - leader, chief, officer, constable, boss  
> stathas - sleek, venomous reptile native to the Mandalore system, known to use its seemingly harmless appearance to hide it deadly capabilities.  
> Resol'nare - The Six Actions, words that all Mando's seek to live by daily  
> Manda'alor - the sole ruler of Mandalore  
> Mando'ade - lit. Mandalorians, sons/daughter of Mandalore  
> jetii - Jedi  
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> vheh'yaime - traditional, temporary domed huts  
> verd'ika - Little Soldier  
> ba'vodu - Uncle/Aunt
> 
> Have questions about In Honor and its world building? Just wanna keep up-to-date with chapter schedules and the work being put into this story?   
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>  or on Twitter ---> https://twitter.com/MusesTear


	15. Life's Overload

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: If you have not read chapter 14 yet, please do so. It has been updated from a request for prompts into an actual chapter. 
> 
> This doesn't have the prompts in it, but those are nearly ready. I want to drop them in a chapter cluster like I did at the start of writing all of this lol  
> I had forgot I wanted to write this chapter for a very specific set of scenes that I took out of the previous chapter to place them in this one.  
> This is officially the longest chapter to date at about 20 pages long.

It’s a strange thing learning to be home again, to not have anything to do outside of the clan and no place to really go. From one moment to the next Din can’t be entirely certain he’s enjoying it or hating it. More than once he’ll wake up expecting to be on the Crest or needing to pack up and leave for his next hunt, only for reality to kick back in and he realizes that no, he’s got nowhere to be. Except right where he is.

The voice of his buir floating from the next room or calling for him has pulled him out of more than one trance, further evidence he’s really home for the foreseeable future. They cook, clean and care for Jae between daily clan duties assigned to everyone. The day slips by and night falls, cook dinner, play with Jae, feed the household, clean up afterwards, bathe, try to set a nighttime routine for Jae, bedtime. Repeat and repeat.

Logically this mundane lifestyle should be of little bother, he tries to think of it as no different than his time away on the Crest, he still had to eat and clean up, there were maintenance and gear chores to be done, bounties to hunt and unload, get paid, do repairs, shop for supplies both for the clan and his necessities, get a new bounty, hunt and get paid, and keep up this pattern until he’s compiled a nice sum to take back to the clan where he hands off the supplies and money and does it all again. He’s still following a schedule, just not the same one. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself those first three weeks home.

Two of those weeks had been eaten up by the Trials, so he’d been too busy to notice. Week three saw him busy helping the clan get permanently setup in whatever way he could. Mostly it was all labor. But by week four, he was more than feeling the need to move, to travel and just generally do _more_. This was all becoming too normal, too sedentary.

Jae and buir helped but really, there was only so much a young man could be expected to take. He was accustomed to his roving lifestyle, was just settling into a new style of life with Jae at his side on the Crest. As much as he loved knowing Jae had a safe home to settle into with safe people who’d care for them, the wandering loner in his soul was screaming to be let out. Sometimes, he swears he can all but feel and hear it trying to claw its way out. He needs to find something to do before… well he has no idea what would happen, he’s not prone to dramatic displays of emotion. But he doesn’t want to snap or something either.

He’s accustomed to the quiet and loves it, loves knowing that he won’t be disturbed from a line of thought for a reason that he deems unnecessary. He loves the feeling of being fully an individual, being at peace with his self. The voices and sounds of normal life rake at his brain and patience like a shrieking alarm, it’s all too much. He’s quickly finding himself irritated by a lack of privacy and that bothers him too, because he knows that people talking around him and not necessarily to or at him is normal. He shouldn’t be as on edge about it as he is or as bothered by the concept of waking to it every morning for who knows how long. He shouldn’t feel spiking anxiety of having to have a conversation with his clanmates, he shouldn’t feel emotionally and mentally exhausted after a day with them. Barely a day really. He doesn’t feel like this with Jae or buir.

When thinking back to his childhood he can’t recall a moment where he’d ever felt like this, not even when he’d been new to the clan and knew no one. So why is he like this now?

“Din.”

Turning to look up and over his shoulder from where he’d been over scrubbing their stock pot, he searches for the eyes behind buir’s helmet. “Yes?”

Tharr nods at Din’s helmet sitting to the side, an indication to put it on “Vizla is here, wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, right. I’ll be there.”

Din turns back to dry the pot and sets it aside to clean his hands, firmly slipping his own helmet on before walking out to the karyai. It’s not far, they had only recently completed the addition of a wall between the kitchen and karyai two days ago and an old sheet, folded over a string hangs between as a makeshift door. When he enters he finds Paz kneeling down in front of Jae who is happily showing off the carved toys Ba’buir had made.

“These are very nice, Jae.” Paz waves the Mando figure around and imitates jetpack flight with it as Jae squeals and makes the other toys float about too. Chuckling at the little one’s antics he settles on the floor to be closer, “Does your Mando get into all kinds of adventures like, buir?”

Jae’s ears swivel up sharply and those big eyes seem impossibly bigger, “Boo.” Turning to look and finding Din watching them and points excitedly, “Boo!”

Their visors meet and Paz straightens just a bit, “Yes, that is buir.” Turning back to look at Jae and caress one ear, “You’re learning fast, Jae.”

Jae’s response is too coo happily and press close to the caress, the little womp rat is always greedy for ear rubs. Sometimes Jae won’t let Tharr or Din leave them to their sleep until they’ve been lulled into it with ear rubs, bath time is just as treacherous. The little gremlin seizes any opportunity for a free ear rub.

“If you keep that up you’ll never get away.”

Paz pauses to look up as Jae whines and presses their ears upwards, straining to encourage Paz to continue.

“Jae likes ear rubs a bit too much. You might get enslaved like the rest of this household.”

Paz snorts before scooping Jae into his arms, and _kriff_ if Jae doesn’t seem more tiny resting in his biceps as Paz’s large hand continues the massage. Damn Paz for looking so… _good_ cradling his child, like he couldn’t just crush Jae in an instant.

Normally he’d be uptight about anyone holding Jae that wasn’t fully vetted like Omera or Peli, or family like buir. Even Cara, rough and as non-child friendly as she seemed was trusted. Paz has had minimal interaction with Jae, he wouldn’t normally just allow someone to pick the little one up without stepping in close threateningly, like he’d done with Mayfeld.

Paz stands toe to toe with Din, Jae cradled just slightly to the side to avoid being crushed between them, leaning down to just shy of touching their helms together. “Sounds like a small price to pay to be on Jae’s good side. Afterall,” their helms softly _clink_ and Din inhales “I very much want Jae’s buir.”

He pulls back and Din can’t hear anything he might be saying to Jae because his breath is caught in his chest and blood is rushing in his ears in a way that reminds him of the waterfall. Face heated and feeling terribly parched Din licks his lips slowly, clearing his throat a few times.

“So, um⸺ what, What did you come here for?”

“It’s been awhile since we’ve seen one another, considering all the work that needed doing.” He sets Jae on the floor who pouts before toddling off back to the discarded toys, “I also wanted to give you and Jae time to settle into a normal life.”

Broad shoulders expand and lift in a shrug, a teal helm the same color as his buir’s tips to the side regarding him, “The Matriarch has mentioned I am to retrain you in the Rising Phoenix. She also wanted me to do a scouting mission of the caves we haven’t checked yet.”

Din nods slowly before murmuring, “It’s been awhile since I trained. Are you looking for a second on the mission?”

“An extra set of eyes to map the area would be appreciated. It’s not an ideal date, but there is little in way of places we can go.”

“A date?”

“Of course, I can’t prove myself worthy of your bond if I don’t have opportunities to be with you, mesh’la.”

Din blushes all the harder but nods slowly, “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Ba-BA!”

Jae’s shrieking interrupts them and they watch the little one quickly toddle to Tharr to be picked up. Tharr’s own teal helmet regards them quietly before his soft rumble is heard, “I’ll watch Jae if you two intend to go right now.”

Paz nods firmly, “Thank you.” Turning to Din, “I’ll wait for you outside?”

“Yes, I won’t be long.”

Din watches the large male leave and turns to find his buir shifting Jae higher up his shoulder as he watches him. Ducking his head, a bit bashfully he murmurs something about his gear and turns to walk to the armory. Tharr laughs as Din walks by but says nothing.

Entering the armory, he gathers his beskar’gam together and his amban rifle, once everything is in place and properly secured, he leaves with quick steps. But something feels odd, off and not quite right. Pausing for a moment just outside the door he realizes he’s left his jetpack behind. Spinning on his heel he instinctively reaches back to pull aside his cloak only to realize he’s not wearing that today. Taking the shiny pack in both hands he lifts it up and over his head, feeling it fit securely into place.

He briefly wonders if maybe he should have changed out of his simple tunic and pants for his regular suit but no, they’re only going to be doing a brief scouting mission and training. All of his clothes are specifically designed to be durable for his line of work, one never knows when one will face physical violence and having tough clothing can make even the slightest difference. The usual heavy suit is better for more serious missions and harsh climates, overkill for the simple tunnels of their new home and a scouting mission. The cobalt blue of his current clothing is functional and practical, though remarkably comfortable. Buir had brought it back with him along with a bolt of the same fabric, which proved useful for making Jae new clothes as well.

When he leaves the armory he stops in front of buir and Jae to press a kel’dabe kiss to the little wrinkled brow of his child and his buir’s own helm.

“Be good for Ba’buir.”

Jae only hums in a preoccupied way, gnawing on the tail of the mythosaur carving while shaking the aquatic figure vigorously.

He’s nearly at the door when Tharr’s voice rumbles, “Be good yourself.” Din hesitates in the doorway and looks back at his buir, whose head is tilted in a subtle gesture of humor, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Stumbling and lost for words Din manages to splutter, “Really, buir? It’s just training and a scouting mission.”

“Uh-huh,” Tharr shakes his head and leans down to Jae, “I’ve made those excuses when I was young. Don’t you go and do what they’re gonna do.”

Jae blinks unknowingly up at Tharr with a big smile and shrieks around a mouthful of carved toys.

Din escapes hurriedly out the door to the sounds of his buir’s booming laughter to find Paz leaning back against the side of the hut. Reaching out to grab the other’s elbow and begin to pull him along, “Come on.”

“In a hurry, cyar’ika?”

Paz sounds amused and Din feels nothing but simmering embarrassment, it’s been like this since he got home. It’s all in good fun and his feelings aren’t hurt, but the joke is getting older and older. He knows no one means anything by it but the loner in him bristles like a loth-cat and the bounty hunter and introvert in him despises the attention.

Paz slips his elbow out of Din’s grip and shifts it to the smaller males’ hand, giving it a firm squeeze he pulls Din into an abrupt spin when he changes their direction. He refuses to let go when Din tries to subtly shake his grip free while they pass through the center thoroughfare and by the passing figures of their clanmates.

Pulled along by Paz’s grip and between the other huts as they enter the clearing behind their settlement. They march their way further and further afield until Din can no longer see nor hear their clan. His shoulders sag and he can feel himself become less tense, the more he feels the calm of isolation fall over him, and he feels bad about it. Even though it makes his head feel clear and his emotions less, _less._ He almost feels normal again, his version of normal. For a brief moment he almost forgets that Paz has a hold of his hand and he nearly stops to just sit and be, be in the presence of himself and the quiet.

“Still with me Din’ika?”

Inclining his head until he can meet the T-visor of Paz’s helm he nods slowly as they pause in a large open clearing, the grey grassland seems to glow with soft light and a shadow passes slowly overhead. They both look upwards to the ‘sky’ and watch the languid figure hover and circle before slowly fading away into nothing.

“Did you have a plan in mind for this⸺ outing?”

Paz snorts with a slight shake of his head and reaches over to grab Din’s new jetpack firmly and gives it a small shake that has Din’s body following the motion.

“Why don’t we start with this? The scouting mission will take a few days at least, so we have a bit of time.”

“Is the mission not taking us above ground?”

“No, other teams are mapping those networks. We’ll be following the tunnels that branch off the back of the cavern where we have yet to thoroughly explore. We’re hoping to secure multiple exit and rally points, maybe a few decoys for any enemies.”

“It would be wise to see if there’s any points we can use to our advantage if we need to meet with the native people.”

Paz nods firmly, “Nioth, Vha and few of the others want us to collect samples of anything that isn’t already catalogued. Research and whatever.”

Din huffs good naturedly, “Research and whatever. What a shock, thinking isn’t your strong suit.”

A humored growl rolls from Paz’ chest with a slight head tilt, Din is not ready when the large male lunges for him and fully presses him upwards by his thighs. Din barely stifles his yelp and flails to grab a hold of the pauldrons resting on broad shoulders to steady himself.

“I see you still have yet to learn to respect your instructors, Din’ika.”

Din tries to be subtle about his sharp intake of breath when he feels large hands squeeze his thighs, “No matter.” Paz continues in a husky tone of authority, “Nothing better for a mouthy trainee than good, _hard,_ training.”

Din shifts in Paz’s grip as he failingly tries not to feel aroused, it’s a lot more effort than he expects as Paz lowers him down his body in a controlled descent. Pressing Din tightly to his front as he’s lowered so that his groin drags firmly with the descent.

When he’s low enough that Paz has no choice but to let his thighs slip from his hands and the toes of Din’s boots drop into the soft ground below while his hands still grip the massive pauldrons above, Paz lets his free hands roam steadily up Din’s sides, his fingertips slip between the seams of his armor to press firmly into the tunic beneath in a way that Din can feel.

Shivering from the touch and feeling just a tad breathless, Din pulls back as Paz straightens up and turns to indicate the field around them.

“Obviously there’s plenty of space in all directions for this training.” His body movement suggest he’s looking at Din from the side, “In case you decide to go rocketing off into a wall.”

Din tips his head in a slow manner that speaks volumes for what he thinks about that.

“The packs can have a mind of their own, especially with someone inexperienced. How long has it been since you last trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

“Probably when I was sixteen.”

“Hm, long enough then.” Taking a moment to think and look around Paz turns back to face Din head on and holds out both hands palm up.

“Alright, let’s start with some basic hover exercises to help you relearn how to balance and maintain control.”

Din wants to argue that something so incredibly basic and juvenile is beneath even his limited training but realizes he can barely remember how to activate the pack without causing the pack to stall or sputter. Paz wiggles his fingers and Din heaves a sigh before thrusting his hands out to take the one’s in front of him.

Paz nods before speaking again, “First things first, stance. You need to stand tall and straight, don’t let your back curve or hunch forward.” Din moves to stand straighter, “Legs shoulder width apart, shoulders back but not tight.” Din shifts in his grip to follow the instruction.

“Good. Remember, take off is an upward motion only. You should not be adjusting your back or legs to take off at an angle, basic rule of memory: Helm high, touch the sky. Chest down, meet the ground.”

Din snorts and Paz chuckles with him, both their laughter shaking the grips on one another’s hands.

“Is that what you tell all your trainees? Because I think I have seen some users take off at an angle.”

Smiling under the helmet Paz shakes his head, “It’s not so much that you can’t take off at angle but it’s not good practice. We can’t control what scenarios will cause us to take-off on a cold start or what angle that take-off is at, but an inexperienced user may cause a stall or not know how to correct their orientation to avoid kissing dirt. Or worse.”

Pulling Din a half step closer so he can hear his lowered voice, “I don’t want you trying something like that until you have total control, can’t have you getting yourself killed or seriously injured.”

Din kicks his shin enough to be felt to chastise Paz, “You’re just saying that cause you’re scared of my magic baby and buir.”

“I think you know better than that, mesh’la.”

“Oh? You’re not worried that if you let me get so much as a scratch on my beskar’gam, buir won’t throw you from one side of this cavern to another?”

“But then who would explain my death to my ade?”

“Hm, well I guess we’re at an impasse.”

Dropping their hands Paz waves at Din, “Show me the correct stance.” Turning to walk slowly around Din’s body.

“Yes, _sir_.”

Paz reaches out swiftly just as Din rolls his shoulders back and pinches one firm buttock, Din jumps forward and turns to swipe at him with a strangled, _“Hey!”_

Completely unapologetic Paz shrugs, “If you’re gonna be a sarcastic shit then you’re going to be punished.”

“Punished.” The tone in Din’s voice is both a warning and slight incredulity.

“Yes, Din’ika punished. Remember, I am the instructor here and you follow my rules. If you deviate from those rules, I get to hand out whatever punishment I deem fit.”

“Is this some kind of payback from when I was a kid? Because if it is, I promise you Vizla, this is going to go as well as it did back then.”

Din’s voice has dropped into a warning growl and his stance is slightly lowered and ready for a fight. It really does remind Paz of old times and he can’t help the fond smile beneath his helm.

“Back then? Do you mean from when you were a kid?”

“I just said that ⸺”

“Or do you mean from our time together in our den?”

“What⸺”

Paz steps in close again, pulling Din tight to his chest wrapping his arms around the small waist and leaning low to not quite whisper where Din’s ear would be.

“You were certainly well behaved then, cyare.”

Din shivers between his arms and his head tilts back, the T-visor staring into the distance over Paz’s shoulder. “You were a very good boy, _back then._ ”

Two large hands slip from Din’s waist to crest over the swell of his rear, stopping just low enough to squeeze two handfuls of Din’s ass and forcing him to grind just slightly against Paz. The quiet grunt not quite hidden behind Din’s helmet is barely heard by Paz, but strong small hands gripping his forearm is telling enough.

“Are we gonna train or do you just plan on molesting me?”

Paz stifles his laugh not wanting to ruin the sound of that handsome rasp whispered so breathlessly, turning his helm to nuzzle the side of Din’s head firmly letting his forehead rest there. “I suppose that depends on you, cyare. How good will you be for me?”

Din breathes deep, “Fine, okay. I’ll listen.”

“You’ll do more than listen, you’ll _do_.”

“Yes.” Paz can practically hear the eye roll, “I’ll do.”

Forcing Din to grind against him again, _“Yes?”_ he growls warningly.

“Yes.” The grips on his rear tightens and Din exhales on his corrected response, “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy. Stance.”

Pulling back abruptly enough that Din nearly topples forward Paz resumes his slow circle while the smaller Mando finds his footing and stands tall with his shoulders thrown back.

“Legs shoulder width apart.”

Din readjusts as Paz continues to circle, occasionally correcting his form with words or physical touch. When Din is adjusted just to Paz’s liking he leaves him standing there as he talks about safety and bail-out protocols, common errors and technical specifications, tactical strategy and the advantages and disadvantages of jetpack warfare.

Din holds his form with the same precision soldier-like mentality that all Mandalorian’s have, he doesn’t break or waver nor does he complain. He listens but has long perfected the bounty hunter’s art of listening without hearing, letting his mind go so his body can do without thought. His spatial awareness is also above normal even for Mandalorian’s, he can be physically aware of his surroundings as though he were physically connected to it.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s start the warm-up sequence and get to hovering.”

Din nods along and allows Paz to take up space in front of him and feels his grip land on his left shoulder and the right fists his belt. Hesitating from where he’d been reaching for his vambrace, “Uh…”

“Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

The knowing lilt in Paz’s voice sends alarm flaring through him like dull sparks, tickling down his spine, “Okay.”

Pressing the commands for his warm-up sequence he hears and feels the rumbling churn of the fuel and air mixing, bringing the fresh jetpack to life. He can almost feel it’s fuel thrumming through its components as though it was his own blood powering it.

A sudden splutter and pop cracks the air around him and he’s lifting in a harsh jolt skyward. His feet leave the ground and he’s left reeling backwards all in the same moment, the only thing keeping him from flying off like a flailing rookie is Paz’s strong hands keeping him grounded by sheer force of his own weight and strength. Just as suddenly another cracking pop belches from behind him followed by a dying wheeze and he drops back to the ground just barely catching his footing, forcing Paz to right him.

“Well, that could’ve been worse.”

“Shut up.”

“It happens on the first start up, pretty common. The more you use it the better it’ll get, less glitchy and a lot smoother.”

“I was feeling good until it tried to run off with my spine.”

Paz snorts, “Yeah, they can do that. Start up again, it might still sputter so I’ll hold on to you.”

Straightening once again he activates his warm-up as Paz tightens his hold, the pack splutters and pops but doesn’t try to run off with his insides again. Slowly Paz drags his hands along Din’s body and down his arms till they are holding hands once more.

“Alright, initiate warm-up.”

Din is confused until Paz’s own jetpack lights up behind him and realizes that Paz has his programmed to voice commands. Paz lets one of Din’s hands go and nods to his wrist, “Program your sequence for a low hover take-off.”

Doing as told and feeling the pack kick up in force after the command is input he snags Paz’s hand as he feels the change from a warm-up to the force of lift, his feet lift a few inches off the ground and he nearly tips forward to crash brows with Paz. He only just hears Paz over the whine of his turbines commanding his own pack to life and suddenly Paz is level with him, pulling him in close to grab is elbows to stabilize his form.

“Chest up, not down.”

“Touch the ground, right.”

“Yes, hold the stance we practiced. Use me if you need to.”

It’s a real trial of errors on Din’s part, he’d forgot how much core strength was needed to hold a simple upright position. The stance was valuable in that it made up the whole of jetpack flight in its entirety, one didn’t realize how important that kind of strength was until you suddenly couldn’t hold the proper position to hold your back stable and your body in line like a set of wings. It was a significantly more tiring position than one realized, to hold yourself as steady and firm as a pair of wings on an aircraft. They never budged and never tired, their only movement that of the ailerons, not the wing itself. It was easy to get hurt from improper stance alone, never mind the dangers a tool like a jetpack held inherently in its function and design.

The trembling he feels in his body as Paz tells him to stop looking at his feet and pick his head up signals how much Din needs to work on his calisthenics. His job was very labor intensive, and he’d performed unique maneuvers to overpower a bounty countless times. He was also very flexible. He had always worked to stay at peak physical fitness for his job and as a Mandalorian, but the jetpack is providing a physical challenge he had not been aware of needing.

They’re hovering about two feet off the ground now and Din is not quite struggling to hold his stance too much anymore, Paz can feel him shifting his weight to stay in position and he doesn’t have to verbally correct him as he watches Din take his own initiative to correct himself. Letting him be for several more minutes he squeezes the slim elbows he’s been holding, Din’s attention is immediately pulled to him and nearly loses his balance for it.

Letting the small Mando try to find his balance again without help Paz waits and when he’s stable again he speaks up, “I’m going to start moving now.” Din stiffens a tad, “I’m going to lead you and you’re going to do your best to stay in stance and keep your feet underneath you. I should be able to pull you along without your feet slipping out from under you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

He says nothing else and tips his own weight to begin drifting slowly backwards allowing his hands to loosen on Din’s elbows, the further away he drifts the further down Din’s arm his hands travel until he captures the small hands in his own. Keeping a firm grip on him they begin to slowly drift in an awkward arms-length dance where Din is being led like an awkward colt that can barely walk.

More than once Din nearly loses his feet and flails, which only further keeps him from righting himself and Paz has to slip close to help him out. Another time Din almost falls completely on his back, feet shooting forward so that he’s nearly at a forty-five-degree angle. The only thing keeping him from tipping further is the death grip he has on Paz’s hands until he’s reeled upwards.

But with the scant amount of fuel they have to work with in the packs Paz eventually calls it a day and with some timed maneuvering they both descend the short distance to touchdown on the grass below, even if Din’s landing manages to be heavier than Paz’s own. His heavy, off-kilter thud nearly sends him to his ass while Paz lands with control.

“You did well, Din. Some of the training must have come back to you, I expect you’ll pick this up quickly.”

“Thanks.”

“Ready to do some scouting?”

Din hums as he nods and tries to ignore his straining thighs and abdominals, they both walk back to their starting position where they had left Din’s rifle and the pack Paz had brought along. Their mission was set to take most of the rest of the day and Paz had brought food and water along so they could maximize their efficiency.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder as Paz takes up the pack he follows him further into the fields for several minutes and they turn around a bend in the wall he’d never noticed. The walls position gave the illusion that one could go no further, the optical illusion blending into the background of the wall furthest from it. The reality was a graceful curvature that lead to a pocket of even wider plains land and, from what Din could see, the pockmark appearance of distant tunnel openings.

It takes half an hour to traverse the new plains, the odd feather-like insects floating gracefully on the minimal air currents around their passing figures before they finally stand at the base of the wall with the nearest tunnel opening six feet overhead. There is no discernable access to the place besides climbing or jetpack.

“Let’s split up to either side, map all the openings you see and we’ll meet back here at the middle. Note anything odd in the nearby terrain while you’re at it.”

Both back away from the base of the wall and venture back into the plains to get the best vantage for visually marking the openings, Paz taking the left and Din to the right. More than once Paz left the ground with his jetpack and at one point had disappeared entirely for a few minutes before returning, Din meanwhile stayed on the ground not trusting his skills with his jetpack nor the minimal fuel he might have left.

Fifteen minutes of this goes on before they come back to share their findings. There are approximately thirty tunnel openings marking the wall and minor terrain oddities. Overhead, Paz had discovered three odd bubble shaped orbs hanging down from what should have been aquatic sky. They were hollow within and seemed to be glass-like in appearance from the outside, making them difficult to discern as they also reflected the moving waters and creating another illusion of continued sky. Inside however, Paz had discovered that the entire interior was made of rust colored powder on the floor thick and plush, while the walls were the same rust colored material but had hardened into the same rock formations as the rest of the cavern. The forward ⸺or aft section, depending on one’s position, had what Paz described as view ports acting like windows, allowing one to see the plains before them with crystal clarity.

The tactical advantage was not lost on Din who insisted on seeing the orbs for himself. Holding on to Paz as they ascended revealed the camouflaged hide-out as they performed a turn about a quarter of the way around one of the orbs and landed within. The surface of the floor was so soft that Din nearly sank up to the top of his boots toe and Paz almost to his ankle from his own weight. In fact, Din could see exactly where Paz had walked the interior previously. Performing his own inspection of the space found the ceiling to be tall enough for Paz to stand in, a head taller and Paz would have to bend at the neck to fit within. The total width in any direction was enough for six men of Paz’s size to comfortably lay head and feet without being cramped. The ‘windows’ were as broad as Din’s own chest and roughly about his eye height, the clarity through them was exceptional. The perfect space for a sniper or look-out.

Or even a den.

Defensible, hidden, out of range of the average Ad’din sense of smell. Din’s inner Got’din squirmed with delight over the perfect den, the urge to nest in the space tickled his instincts but he pushed them down.

“I knew it was an unexpected bonus, but I didn’t think you’d like it that much.”

The unintended rumble in his chest cuts off as Din realizes he’s been purring. Coughing to clear his throat before turning to face Paz, “It’s good. Defensible. Are the other’s like this?”

Paz tips his helm in a firm, single nod. “One has a window that spans half the orb and from floor nearly to ceiling, but the rest have windows about this size. All facing the plains. Their entrances are also facing the walls, so they’re difficult to see without flying right up to them.”

“This planet just keeps on giving. I’m waiting for the catch.”

“Not all things come with a catch, cyare. But I hear what you mean.”

Taking one last look around and trying very hard not to remove his glove so he can rub the scent gland in his wrist along the walls to mark the space as his own, Din walks back toward Paz and leans slightly out the opening to view the ground below. They are one hundred and fifty feet in the air according to his sensors and wonders briefly if he could safely land back on the ground with his jetpack.

“Want to try?”

Looking to his left where Paz had lined up shoulder to shoulder with him and is also looking down. Paz nods to the open space ahead of them, “Do you want to try a controlled a descent?”

“Yes.”

Paz nods and murmurs for his jetpack to come to life and Din activates his own in turn. When the packs are primed and ready, with Din’s coughing for a moment like an aggrieved teenager, Paz reaches for his elbow with his right hand and they both step out onto the lip of opening.

“Hold your stance and I want you to make sure your feet are flat, like standing on a surface. It’ll create a drag effect to help you learn how to feel the movement of descent. Once you’ve acclimated the stance won’t be so necessary.”

Din nods along while gauging the ground below, “Hey,” looking up to find Paz watching him, “don’t look at the ground. For your first descent from this height it can dizzying, or you may be inclined to lean forward and lose your balance.”

Pointing to the caves a bit ahead of them, “I want you to keep your eyes trained on the base of that wall without tipping your head. Use that as your focal point as we go. Ready?”

Din slips his arm up dislodging Paz’s grip and moves until his hand is clasping Paz’ “Yes, I’m ready.”

A firm squeeze, “Step out.” And they are both stepping out onto open air.

For a moment Din nearly panics, his mind wants ground to be where his foot expects it but it’s not. Paz’ strong grip on him keeps him from being to off balanced and when he manages to get his _footing_ and straighten his spine, keeping his eyes on the focal point that Paz selected they begin to descend. It’s slow and he really does feel the drag created by his flat-footed stance pushing his against him as they make a controlled descent instead of a screaming free-fall.

In no time at all they have landed and Din exhales heavily with both relief and no small amount of excitement. Paz chuckles and squeezing his hand gives it a friendly shake, “Much better, you didn’t even fall over.”

“I didn’t, did I?”

Din can hear the enthused joy in his own voice, “That felt incredible.”

“Told you that you would pick this up quick.”

Din nods vigorously and his smile makes his jaw ache, but he’s thrilled with this accomplishment. He doesn’t even notice he’s still holding Paz’ hand.

“Let’s get to work.”

The rest of the work they do mapping the first tunnel takes longer than originally planned, they likely will have to come back to map all its side tunnels and discover how many of them possibly connect to the other tunnel openings they had observed. This one tunnel may take days of work before they can move onto the next but it’s something to do and it’s important. So far, they have found nothing of note that has not already been catalogued or observed.

They spend a half hour lounging together on section of tunnel wall that has eroded into a bench shape that fits them both perfectly. Eating is at first a quiet affair with neither male entirely sure what to discuss outside of the mission or jetpack training. They talk about both on and off for a bit but eventually conversation falls quiet between them.

“How’s Jae doing?”

Din nods around a mouthful of water before swallowing, “Good, a lot better being some place permanent I think.”

Paz leans back to rest against the wall while Din keeps talking, “Buir has been a big help and Jae loves him. I’ve even found the little sneak sleeping with Buir some nights. Slips right out of the cradle and somehow sneaks by me. I think their time together while I was gone was productive, Jae trusts Buir a great deal. I love seeing them together too. It’s strange to think our family wasn’t complete until Jae joined it. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It does, I know exactly what you’re talking about.” Paz shifts as Din leans back against the wall with him causing their thighs to touch. “Before Xoeth was born I never thought my life was lacking in anything, then one day I was handed this tiny bald bundle and he was the single greatest thing in my life. I never once considered it could ever get better than that. Then Khal was born and she was just as perfect and new but she fit right in like she’d always been there. I had two beautiful ade and they were healthy and I could never have asked for more.”

Din watches Paz talk and hears the love in every word, the soft tone to his voice as he reminisces on the days of two babes joining his life. Din’s heart beats just a little faster as if sharing in the joy of Paz’ memories.

“And at some point in time in a place I don’t even know, two little boys were born and I didn’t know they’d be mine one day. Until they were, Trath and Caz have filled spaces in my life I didn’t know were empty. I can’t imagine ever having to live my life without them now. It would be empty in a way I don’t want to think about. I can’t imagine not being able to smell them in every space of our home or to never hear their voices. I love those boys.” Spoken with a firm finality, “They might not have been born Vizla’s but they are Vizla’s.”

Turning to regard Din, “Just as Jae is a Djarin, and was always meant to be a Djarin. Just like you.”

Pure, unpainted beskar rises on Din’s shoulders as his chest expands with an audible inhalation. “Life brings us where we need to be, exactly when we need to be there.” He whispers.

“What?”

“When I was a boy before I became a Foundling, my biological father once told me that life takes us where we need to be, exactly as we need to be there. Or something like that, that’s how I remember it anyway. It’s one of the few things I still remember.”

“This is the way of the Mandalor, in a manner of speaking. Our paths lead us to all that awaits us, so that we can take on the challenges before us and leave the old version of ourselves behind for one that is a better reflection of our true selves.”

“This is the Way.”

Having spoken the words simultaneously they both seem to relax further and Din slips closer to Paz, not quite leaning on his arm but close enough.

“I’m⸺ I have been having trouble adjusting to life within the clan.”

Din can see Paz’ head turn to study him, “To normal life, I mean. I’m used to just my thoughts and myself. Jae doesn’t talk or didn’t when we were on the move. So having the kid around didn’t change much. But, I feel like my senses are constantly being overloaded. I get irritated when it’s too much noise when I know it’s really not and just me being stupid.”

Paz interrupts by grabbing Din’s helm and turning his face toward him so he can lean down close, “You’re not stupid, cyar’ika. You’ve always been the quiet type, keeping to yourself more often than not. We are your clan and we live in close quarters, you were bound to get fed up with us. But I believe your issue may stem from your beroya lifestyle which only encouraged your self-isolation. Being introverted is not a crime Din, all Mando’s come from every walk of life and personality. But that doesn’t mean you should allow it to take over your life so completely that you are willing to walk away from anything that causes you the least bit of anxiety.”

“It’s not anxiety!” Din pulls his face free from the light grip, “Not really. I have friends⸺”

“In the clan?”

“No, not exactly. Outside the clan, but I still talk to people. I’m not afraid to talk to anyone.”

“Yes, but how often do you initiate those relationships? How many relationships do you have in the clan?”

Din takes a breath, “Don’t say the Matriarch or your buir.” Din’s shoulders sag like a deflated ball, “They don’t count, and neither do I.”

“Presumptive of you to suggest that I was thinking of you at all.”

“I am courting you Din’ika, by your own permission. I think it is fair assumption to make.”

Din shifts slightly, the closest to restlessness he’ll allow himself to show. _Never should have opened my mouth._ _Could have literally talked about anything else!_

Paz pulls the smaller man close and squeezes his waist, “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings Din.” The other stiffens and tries to pull back but Paz doesn’t let up, “You’ve been living a life of constant movement and most of your interactions with others have been violent and you’re surrounded by individuals who are less than trustworthy. But you are home now, you can trust us. If there is any group of people you can trust it’s us. You don’t have to be the perfect beroya for us, we are your clan. We’ve known you since you were just an ad, you can trust us with yourself.”

Din is frozen in Paz’ arms and barely breathing, “Why else would you work so hard to provide for this clan if you didn’t believe or trust us at all? Why come home if you didn’t feel your own ad wouldn’t be safe with us? You could have left and never seen us again, at any time. But you didn’t, you came home. Your heart knows it, give your mind and body the time to know it too.”

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

It’s been two weeks since they started Din’s training and their mission to map the far tunnels. It took nearly half that time to fully map the first tunnel they had been working on, following all of its branching sections until the main tunnel hit a dead end and they had back tracked to the clearing and began work on their second tunnel.

They shared random and odd conversations, nothing as serious as the topic from last time that had left Din feeling suffocated and unable to really process his emotions. Paz had been sorry about it but Din had assured him that he didn’t take it too personally, it was all true after all and sometimes facing that truth about oneself, even when it was known, could be trying and exhaustive.

Occasionally their mission is disrupted by other clan and family tasks, Paz has to train the ade and Din has Jae on a loose training schedule even though he’s young. Both his Buir and the Matriarch had agreed that for Jae’s benefit it was best to try to work on any control Jae had on their abilities, no one wanted an accident to occur after Din had explained Jae choking Cara. It was mutually agreed that self-discipline and emotional control would be best for Jae going forward. Afterall, if Jae could willingly choke a grown adult for a perceived threat to Din, they didn’t want to know what a tantrum could bring. Though Tharr had instructed Din to be braced for that being inevitable since ade could have a fit over even the simplest things, like being so tired they couldn’t sleep and that could cause a tantrum on its own.

Initially Din had been quick to affirm that Jae was a very quiet tot and rarely caused any actual trouble. Tharr had snapped his foot down so hard on that he may as well have pulverized it into dust.

_“You don’t know what Jae’s life from before was, ad. Jae may have had little interaction with the outside world or may not have had any stimulating interactions with adults and other ade. The little interaction they may have had could have been violent. Jae is learning to live a new life like a normal ad, possibly for the very first time. You were once quiet yourself, then one day you were running about and being mischievous. I had to correct you more than once and more than once you talked back to me. You were testing me and your new life. Don’t think Jae won’t someday do the same. You at least were old enough to listen and understand that when I punished you that it wasn’t because I was trying to hurt you or would even abandon you. Jae is a baby, we don’t know how much their native species is capable of understanding at this age. Jae is having to learn in a crash course how to have a meaningful relationship with a trustworthy adult. They’re building trust for you and even me, but don’t make the mistake thinking that means they have adjusted to just being a normal baby. Jae will never be a normal baby in the way that we understand babies.”_

Buir was right, as much as Din didn’t want to admit it. There was so much Din was still learning about being a buir that he hadn’t considered how much Jae was having to learn too. It brought back many old questions he’d been working on ignoring.

_How long had Jae been inside that capsule cradle, alone in the dark until I showed up? From birth to our first meeting? Did anyone tend to their needs at all? Did anyone even care that Jae was a living, sentient individual that deserved more than a darkened cradle, treated like a discarded toy forgotten and pushed aside?_

Din stops walking inside the clearing where Paz is waiting for him to begin their jetpack training again. Recently they had been adding in a calisthenic-based workout routine to help Din’s body be comfortable holding the many positions his body would need to maintain. The exercises were tiring but fulfilling, his already honed body was learning quickly and adjusting to the new movements and his range of flexibility had grown substantially.

He’d more than once caught Paz staring at his backside or his straining thighs during a routine, it was both distracting and surprisingly flattering. To think he was causing as much distraction to Paz.

They fall into their now standard warm-up routine for several minutes, before moving slowly through the actual routine itself for the next hour and a half. Wearing their beskar’gam the two figures move from one movement to the next, with Paz demonstrating and Din following. Sometimes Paz stops to walk around Din and correct a movement or add one. Neither man is aware of their growing audience with hungry eyes.

Din slowly makes his way out of an impossible dip to a standing position when he notices that Paz has drifted away from him, once fully on his feet he walks over and steps to the side of Paz to find a miniature audience of all the clans ade and Jae settled on the ground, though Jae is sitting in the lap of one of the ade.

The mini army of small helmets swivel up to him when he stops at Paz’ side, the gleaming unpainted silvery finish tells Din the six of them are all wearing beskar helmets, not durasteel. They still look new. Possibly forged sometime between his delivering the beskar ore from his payment and the subsequent departure from Nevarro. Maybe even forged within their new home. Only six of the ade, Jae included, do not wear helmets, though three of them are likely soon to get theirs based on their size.

The first helmet is forged typically at the age of seven, this is sometimes held back for any ad who is new to the clan. The reasons vary from their cabur still looking for the ad’s family and so not being truly adopted into the clan or their trauma makes the forging of a helmet more of a hindrance to their healing. Din had not received his helmet till he was eight years old, the trauma of his orphaning made it difficult to emotionally attach to his new life and so, Tharr had pushed back that particular ceremony until Din proved he was ready to accept his new life emotionally and mentally.

“What’s going on here?”

“It seems we have an audience for today.” Paz nods at the little troupe, “Apparently, they could not manage to wait to see you in action.”

“Me?” Turning to the small forms below, “Why?”

“I like your besky, it’s pretty.”

The tiny girl has no helmet but an adorable pixie cut frames her face in soft mouse brown hair, her skin is a random mottling of that of a Caucasian human with soft peachy pink hues splashed on top, possible Twi’lek ancestry somewhere in her genetics, and her eyes are a vibrant emerald green. An altogether pretty little thing.

“My what?”

“Ria means your _beskar’gam_.”

“Oh, thank you?”

Ria’s tiny heart-shaped face scrunches in a happy but shy smile, her scrawny shoulders tucked up to her ears bashfully. Her sweetness moves the Got’din within him, she’s adorable and tiny like his own child and he feels a quickly growing fondness for the little girl.

“Who’s ad is she?”

“Good question. Ria?”

“My kaa⸺” she looks to Paz with hesitation in her eyes.

_“cabur.”_

“My cabur is Mr. Vraax.”

Paz hums warmly, “That’s kind of right. Your _buir_ is Vraax Craurs.”

Ria scrunches her nose with confusion and Paz continues for both her sake and Din’s, “Remember verd’ika, your buir adopted you officially just before _Ba’vodu_ Din and Jae showed up. It was after we came here to our new _yaim._ ”

“Oh, I forget. My new daddy is _Vra’buir._ ”

“That’s right.”

A tiny hand snaps up pointing at Paz, “That’s my buir!” an eager platinum blond head swivels from one adult to the other eagerly.

Paz chuckles, “That is also right. I am your buir, Caz.”

“Oh, so this is the famous Caz I’ve been hearing about.”

Pale baby blue eyes light up with wonder, “You’ve heard of me?”

Din smiles under his helmet, he doesn’t know it but he is quietly purring in a low level hum that sets the other ade at ease and makes Paz happy beyond measure. “Oh yes, your buir has told me how helpful you were when we came back from the Trials. I’ve also heard that you and the other ade have been very kind to my Jae.”

It’s Caz’ turn to be bashful and he hides his face behind his tiny hands, “We’re a clan, ‘posed to be nice.” Din can just barely make out the muffled words and he’s already quickly enamored with the clan’s two smallest Got’din. He idly wonders if Jae will be even remotely similar when they come of a similar age.

“Okay, so introductions before this gets out of hand.” Paz points to their furthest left to the tallest child, “That is Xoeth, my son. Nine years old and his mother is Ka.” Din can’t see the boys face since it’s covered but what he does see is a tall boy with the large build he would’ve expected a younger Paz to have had, covered in a teal blue tunic and brown boots.

“Next to him are the twins, Xoeth’s half-siblings through his mother. Norai and Grel are both six and part of clan Zoluss.” The matching pair are both of dark complexion, he vaguely recalls that in their childhood Ka might have had a pale skin tone and the older Zerr Zoluss was possibly black. At least he’s fairly certain based on a game he’d once watched Zerr play with his buir as a teenager, the man’s gloves had been set aside, revealing the skin beneath. The twins are lighter than Din recalls their buir being, and both have black hair and stunning yellow-brown eyes. Or maybe they’re hazel? It’s hard to tell from here.

Pointing to another child without a helmet, “This is Nira, Thi’s Foundling. She is also six.” The girl is an orange skinned Twi’lek with dark almond shaped eyes, her lekku resting shy behind her as she waves the smallest bit. Din nods to the child and hopes she’ll never grow to be anything like Xi’an or Qin. Thankfully she seems to be a sweet child.

“Then we got Mecaysh and Truj, Miits’ Foundlings. Both eight years old.”

Din can’t tell what species the two Foundlings may be under their helmets and tunics but Truj sets that straight pretty quickly, “My sister is Atoan and I am half Zabrak and half human.”

Mecaysh rocks from sitting onto balancing on her knees, “Buir found us at the same time, we were on a slaver’s ship.”

The girl speaks about it so casually that Din is taken aback slightly, he was not always aware of when his kinsmen went above ground nor what they did, only that they ever rarely left unless necessary. How Miits came into possession of two Foundling’s on a slaver’s vessel escapes him.

Paz shrugs beside him, “It’s a long story, but basically Miits overheard some slavers talking and decided to venture out alone without telling anyone. Came back with these two and that was that.”

“What about me?”

The call comes from one of the two figures sitting directly at Paz and Din’s feet, both are male and one of them has Jae in their lap.

“Yes, yes. This,” pointing to the boy in front of Paz, “is Rallo Kast. He’s Toz and Rurk’s Foundling.”

“I’m seven!” The blue-eyed boy has white hair and pale skin, possibly Sarkhai?

Shifting slightly Din flips his comms to personal so only Paz can hear him, “No helmet?”

Paz’ voice slips through the comms, “Still looking for the kids family. But if this goes on any longer they’ll adopt him. Toz was trying to get Rurk to come around sooner since they have had no leads for almost a year now, but Rurk wants to make sure they do everything possible. Kid still has dreams about his family.”

Din nods slowly as they switch back over to be heard, it’s not easy to make the decision to stop looking for a child’s family and decide to adopt them. Especially when that child is still yearning to reunite with them, it can be a hard blow for all involved. The child most of all.

“Finally, last but not least in my heart,” a small groan is heard from the boy with the helmet, “this is Trath.”

“I’m also seven.”

The boy is the most quiet of all the ad by far, both in voice and body. He’s small and unassuming looking even under the helmet, the green tunic over grey pants makes him seem even smaller. Jae looks almost large in the boys lap and the small tanned hands interlocked around Jae’s body fidget nervously. Paz is right, this boy immediately reminds him of his younger self. Soft rasp and all.

Kneeling slowly down to be at level with the boy he rests his hands visibly on his knees, “It’s nice to me you Trath.”

The boys head ducks slightly before a quiet whisper slips out, “Nice to meet you too.”

Once again Din is unaware of the low purr emitting from his chest, an instinct to calm the child in front of him and show he’s no threat surges ahead and Trath doesn’t seem to notice his own underdeveloped purr squeaking out.

Before any of the other ade can draw attention to the sound and embarrass Trath, Paz bellows “Okay! So, we got training to finish and you ade have places to be I’m sure.”

Loud whines immediately crackle through the air with each child begging to stay to watch or to ask Din questions about being a beroya. The oldest ones are quick to promise to be quiet and not be a disturbance as long as they can stay.

Din finds he can’t deny the kids a chance to at least watch the training they’ll someday undertake and convinces Paz to let the ade be. They cheer loudly and Paz sighs, so much for any bonding time alone with Din.

But he does take his revenge out on the kids by turning the whole thing into a lesson for them as well. He goes over jetpack safety and even the basic stance once again, narrating the moves Din works on for the benefit of all the students he’s apparently teaching today. The kids oohh and ahh over every basic maneuver and turn, before they know it two hours have passed and Din lands as gracefully as he can for his audience.

He’d stumbled a bit, they’ll have to work on that but the kids don’t see that and applaud Din’s effort as enthusiastically as they had two hours before. But finally, Paz manages to shoo them off now that training is done and the kids depart back for their homes. All except Paz’ ade and Jae, who remain seated as the two adults pack away everything they brought with them.

Approaching the ade who begin to stand to meet them in a loose huddle, Jae still being carried by Trath, they stop before them as the kids start talking all at once. Jae leans away from Trath with grabby hands for their buir and Din scoops the little one into his arms and presses their foreheads together.

“Ba’vodu,” turning to find Khal pressed close to his thigh, “will you come to dinner tonight at our yaim?”

“Please! Please!” Caz and Khal swarm Din with their pleas while Paz tries and fails to reign them in, all but Xoeth and Trath are crowding Din, probably only because Xoeth feels too mature and Trath is aloof.

Setting one hand atop Khal’s head and trying not to accidentally step on Caz, Din leans a bit back to see their faces better with Jae pawing at the place over his mouth, “Sorry adike, I didn’t plan on that. We have food cooking at home already and Jae’s ba’buir is waiting for us.”

Disappointed whines pull at his heart and he feels immediately bad, “But, maybe another time? Your buir and I will talk about it and make a plan for a good night to dinner together. Okay?”

“YAY!”

“Bring Jae too!!”

“Alright, ade settle down. Din already promised we’d talk about it and we will.” Inside Paz is as thrilled as the ade, he didn’t think about the possibility his own ade would be able to help pull Din closer, faster than he could. Clever monsters. He didn’t think a dinner with Din, even a family one would have been possible for a month at least. Maybe more, considering how distant Din was sometimes.

Paz and Din start herding their group back towards home, the kids following along as they prattle about one thing or another and Paz is eventually forced to carry a tired Caz as they walk. When they reach home the group splits into two with Din promising to talk to Paz tomorrow about dinner plans and turns to find his buir standing not far away.

“Dinner, huh?”

“The kids insisted.”

“Of course they did.” Tickling Jae’s ears, “And how was your adventure, bu’ad?”

Jae coos tiredly and big eyes blink in a slow pace, “Yes, I imagine it was all very tiring.”

Entering their home to find Tharr has already set the table with food. Cleaning up quickly, the family sits down to their meal and several minutes in Din looks up from checking on a sprawled Jae, “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Do I think what is a good idea?”

“The dinner, with Paz’ ade.”

“Why not? You’re courting the man, and that territory comes with a pre-started family just like yours. You need to be able to determine if your two houses will blend well.”

“So, go?”

“Yes Din, go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to use the world building, a character, concept or literally anything I make up for this story, you have my full permission to do so. I ask only that this story does not get posted on any other website or app and that I and the story In Honor are credited.
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